


No Matter the Name, the Meaning’s the Same  (You and Me, We Were Meant to Be)

by RoLo_Renegade



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, supercat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-06-18 00:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15473010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoLo_Renegade/pseuds/RoLo_Renegade
Summary: Kryptonians call itkhahshchav.Some humans call itbashert.No matter what they call it, Cat and Kara are meant to be--they simply have to be patient until the universe finally agrees.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GeoFender](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeoFender/gifts).



**_khahshchahv_**

In the centuries before the lands began to crack and fissure with irreversible drought, and life abandoned the seas and skies, the Ancients spun golden tales of the creation of the universe, of the birth of solar systems, of the life and death of planets and their people—the cyclical gifts bestowed upon them by the benevolence of Rao.

They taught of fate and completion and all else rendered irrelevant in the light of souls connecting and flourishing as one beat, one breath.

 _khahshchahv_.

A synchronicity to calm the spirit and soothe the soul. A pairing of personalities imbalanced alone—in balance together. It was possible to live an extraordinary life without finding one’s _khahshchahv_ —but two souls paired would always share an inextricable bond that would only grow stronger together.

However, as the planet lost its fight against its environmental attrition, the people lost their faith in the promises of love and the words of the Ancients. There ceased to be room for lore and wonder in a world slowly slipping into chaos and decay. They instead looked to science for their salvation—or to stave off, for as long as possible, the inevitability of extinction clawing up from the desiccated crags of their dying world.

They turned away from the beauty of souls paired perfectly by fates unseen and instead relied on the pairing of matches scientifically determined by the Codex. What faith they once gave to Rao they obediently turned over to geneticists and a High Council more focused on preserving houses and guilds than on love and happiness.

Love and happiness would not save Krypton.

Some continued, even if only in the secret stations of their heart, to believe in the possibility of _khahshchahv_. In the red-tinged quiet of evening, two such believers often sat side-by-side at their bedroom window and spoke in reverent whispers of their own hopes of finding their matches and sharing in the strength of their glorious and unbreakable bond. They giggled with heads bent closely, wondering if their intendeds were Kryptonian or if Rao had chosen to bless their own uniqueness with the rarity of matches from distant worlds. Their parents knew of their fanciful talks—knew only disappointment would be their ultimate reward when it came time for them to stand before the High Council and accept the edicts of the Codex.  

Still, miracles could occur, even on Krypton. _Their_ births had been one such miracle—not simply as one of the few rare natural births to occur still, but as the first registered birth of twins in more than a generation.

But every miracle loses luster with the passage of time. When the twins of the House of Ze reached their thirteenth _ahmzet_ , Krypton saw its final natural birth. Hope once more began to wane, and the In-Ze twins became instead a bitter reminder of Rao’s former blessings upon his children—the first twins in a generation became the last twins of an entire world.

When the time came for the Codex to pair the In-Ze twins with their most statistically suitable mates, both Alura and Astra accepted their fate in Krypton’s new reality of genetic matches and mandatory submission to the birthing matrix.

The Codex selected for Astra a warrior promised to offer her an abundance of strength and loyalty. What Non also offered was distance and disinterest in anything more than Astra’s line of power to the High Council. In a few short weeks, Non disavowed the younger In-Ze twin of all the private dreams she had conjured with her sister. Drive and ambition soon enough filled the space where such yearnings once lived, placing her on a path that led her far afield of those idle reveries.

Alura’s chosen match, Zor-El, shared her sharp mind and deeply rooted sense of justice and protection for their home world. He balanced her in ways she would never dare think of as a return to the old ways—but that she instead considered a success for the Codex where it had so stunningly and heartbreakingly failed for her sister.

In the year of bond establishment the Council required of all newly paired partners, Alura and Zor-El grew into each other’s rhythms and ways with surprising ease. They accepted their myriad differences. Instead, they chose to embrace the less extensive though impressively strong similarities, including their desire to share in the creation of a child.  

Unlike her sister, who deferred her first summons to the birthing matrix (without one thought as to whether or not Non would approve), Alura agreed with Zor-El to submit their genetic samples at the Council’s first request. That night, they made love to consecrate the occasion, each dreaming afterward of what their child would possess of the other.

Neither had dreamed the truth, but the truth was more than Alura had dared to dream. As she held their daughter for the first time, she gazed into eyes she knew unsettled Zor-El and breathed a prayer of gratitude to Rao for what she knew was the sign of his blessing upon their child.

What Alura recognized as a blessing, the Council and Zor-El deemed a “genetic anomaly”—an aberration the birthing matrix should have prevented. The council questioned the matrix’s stability and Zor-El feared their daughter might be flawed further. Alura, however, saw only the beauty of her daughter’s uniqueness and knew who would understand her opinion on the matter without hesitation.

On first sight of her niece, Astra smiled in a way Alura hadn’t seen from her sister since her pairing with Non. Easily falling once more into conversations they had once shared, Astra sighed, “These eyes are a gift, Alura. The gods have chosen her for something great.”

Alura moved to her sister’s side so she could see the eyes in question. One gleamed the deep cerulean hues so common among their people. The other, however, possessed a preternatural emerald glow speckled through with golden contrails. “It’s unlike any color I’ve ever seen here on Krypton,” she sighed as she traced fingers along her daughter’s brow.

“Rao be blessed,” Astra whispered. Neither sister gave voice to the deeper hopes they’d once held for each other—now held forward for the little one Astra cradled against her heartbeat. In that moment, she knew she would do whatever it took to protect this child as if she were her own.

When the time came to name their daughter, Zor-El deferred to Alura. She stood before the gathering of friends and family beneath a canopy of stars, her eyes shifting from the beatific calm of her daughter’s smile to the constellation most prominent in the night sky.

“We honor the gods and goddesses of our history and pray to them this evening that they will protect and guide you on whatever journey your future holds. We name you as a tribute to our past as we prepare you for Krypton’s future. We name you for the goddess under whose constellation you were born. May she bless you with beauty of spirit and kindness of heart, and may the light of her stars always guide you home.”

She pressed a tender kiss against her daughter’s forehead, eyes sparkling as she listened to the soft sounds of contentment. “Be wise, be strong, and always be true to yourself, Kara Zor-El.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy SuperCat Christmas in July!
> 
> First, I'm really sorry, but I'm still working on the remaining chapters of this story. I swear I was going for simple and straightforward. But then...I couldn't stop myself from spinning this further and further out. I mean, we've got a lot of space and time to cover here ;-) I promise I will have this finished as soon as possible, but I really, truly hope you enjoy the parts I've posted so far!
> 
> I know it's not a completely alternate universe, but I've been interested for a while now with the idea of exploring what it would mean if both Krypton and Earth had similar notions of destiny and soulmates--and what it would mean for those connected emotionally while so much physical distance (and lots of other annoying hurdles!) keep them apart. When I saw your soulmates prompt, I couldn't resist :-)


	2. Chapter 2

**_bashert_ **

Her father was a magnificent storyteller. No matter when he finally made his way home after long days logged in an office (and longer evenings logged anywhere other than under the watchful eye and scathing tongue of her mother), he would always be there to tuck her in before sleep. With perfect panache, he would weave tales of magic and lore just for her, transporting her nightly to times and worlds both long ago and far, far away.

Her favorite stories were of golems and giants and the unfinished corner of the world—of the darkness before creation and the city of angelic dreams. These were the gifts she knew her father had received from his mother—gifts he gave her in his quiet attempt to make up for the cruel indifference and fathomless well of cutting barbs her own mother gave her without respite.  

In one of his tales, her father slipped in a word she’d never heard him use before. Popping up from where she’d been nestled into her blankets and pillows, she rubbed at her eyes and tugged at his sleeve to draw him out of the world he’d fallen into that evening.

When she saw the focus of reality once more sharpen in his gaze, she asked, “What does it mean?”

Quickly sifting through his words, he smiled with pleasure at the word he realized she had caught. “ _Bashert_? It means ‘destiny,’ _mayn ketsl_.” He listened to the music of her giggle at his use of her nickname. “It’s used to describe someone’s soulmate.”

At the confused pucker forming along her forehead, he expounded, “Some people believe there is someone out there made just for them—someone who will be their best friend and love them no matter what.”

In silence, she processed his explanation, nodding once to signal the moment she understood. Once more snuggling down in her bed and hugging tightly to her favorite stuffed animal—a plush Golden retriever puppy her father had bought her the day she was born—she sleepily mumbled, “I hope you find your _bashert_ soon, Daddy.”

Her eyes slid shut, blocking from sight her father’s reaction, equal parts pained and resigned that even at such a young age, she understood the uncrossable chasm that existed between her parents.

As she grew older, her voracious imagination demanded more than just her father’s nightly fairytales and fables. Trips to bookstores and libraries soon became her favorite pastime shared with him as he indulged her with whatever stack of books she’d collected from that particular trip. Soon, she was creating her own stories, shared only with him and only when she was certain her mother was nowhere nearby to level scathing critiques on what she would no doubt deem inferior writing.

To him, however, her stories were imaginative marvels—tales of sun gods and mistresses of the moon and planets on the brink of environmental peril. He had always known his daughter was precocious, but her stories showed a linguistic maturity and a creative prescience he could envision her honing into extraordinary talent.

“And when you’re the most famous writer of all time, you’ll remember I was your first and forever biggest fan.”

Whenever he said this, she would always roll her eyes as deflection from the heated blush she felt in her cheeks. He saw in her greatness she sometimes felt too afraid to see in herself. It was easier to believe the criticisms that flowed over her in a daily deluge, wearing her down into fine shards she would sharpen with dangerous precision to deflect from the truth of her fragility.

He knew she had already begun to hone that sharpness within her, no matter how hard he tried to protect her. He was growing weary, however—could feel exhaustion drilling into his bones in ways that no amount of rest or care could ease. Daily life soon became an almost impossible task to him, free time something spent secluded in his office, desperately trying to replenish his reserves.

He cherished those days, when his daughter would join him with a stack of books under her arm and a notebook and pen clutched in her hands. With every passing year, though, he noted sadly how the embers of her own imagination cooled—the fire within her focused more and more on tempering herself against her mother’s daily verbal armada.

On that day, she had curled herself into the overstuffed gray wingback chair tucked into the corner of his office, book pulled up in front of her as she shielded herself from her father’s curious glances. He had heard her mother earlier that day, leveling her with an ease he could have never imagined possible from the person Katherine Grant had been when they first married.

After an hour of letting her pretend to read, he finally came over and sat on the matching ottoman. With a playful tug, he pulled the book from her hands and rotated it to read what she’d been staring at.

“Demonic doubles?”

She shifted uncomfortably at the way he arched a brow in her direction, but steadied herself in a way he recognized. It was the stubbornness that ran strong and proud through every Grant woman.

“Yeah. They’re the evil version of our soulmates, who try to trick us into marrying them instead.”

“I know the myth, _ketsl_.” With a playful smirk, he finished, “Doing a little research?”

Her shrug barely hid the petulant flicker in her green-gold glare. “Thought it might be useful to prepare since our family seems to be susceptible.”

Bracing herself for chastisement for her disrespect, she instead found herself frowning in surprise at her father’s laughter. “You’re far too smart to be fooled like that.”

He closed the book and set it down beside him. “But don’t forget: Finding one’s _bashert_ doesn’t mean everything is easy from then on. Every relationship requires work and attention. Being with your _bashert_ simply makes all the effort that much more worth it.”

Slumping back into the chair, she flicked at lint on the armrest. “You can’t really still believe in all this _bashert_ talk.”

“Of course, I do,” he chuckled.

“How? How can _you_ believe in it,” she asked, in a pique of bravery stoked by the anger she felt daily growing strong as diamonds in her belly. “That we have soulmates? That any of us is _bashert_?”

Her father’s smile hung from lips too used to reflecting disappointment and deflecting disapproval. “How can you not?”

She clicked her tongue at his typical evasiveness whenever she asked of him something he didn’t wish to give. However, after a moment, she withdrew beneath the shadow of hesitation her father rarely saw her indulge. “What is it?”

Green eyes shifted along his face, the golden glitter in her gaze sparking with the movement. “I-I feel something sometimes— _all_ the time,” she quietly corrected with an embarrassed huff. “Something quiet but strong—feelings that come through to me, that I know aren’t mine but that I know I want to feel.” She pressed her hand over her heart, one finger unconsciously tapping out the rhythm beneath it. “They soothe me and make me feel—less alone.”

“Where do you think they’re from?”

She bowed her head, golden curls slipping forward to hide her face. She knew her father believed her, but she had never spoken life to these feelings before. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing about how you feel or what you think is stupid, _ketsl_.”

When she found the courage to meet his gaze once more, his mouth opened slightly in awe of the determined shine he saw. “I think it’s someone I haven’t met yet, but someone I’m supposed to meet. Someone I-I need to meet.”

Her cheeks reddened as she let her gaze drop once more to watch her fingers tapping in time with her heartbeat. “Someone I _need_ —to-to make me the best version of myself.”

Watching the metronomic rhythm of his daughter’s finger, he asked, “Did you know we thought you were going to be twins?”

She looked up, frowning at the non sequitur, but tilted her head in curiosity just the same. “At our first ultrasound, we heard two heartbeats. One was weaker than the other, but there were definitely two. We couldn’t see two fetuses on the monitor, but the doctor postulated one was hiding the other from view.”

“Was I? Did—I mean, was there—”

“It was just you,” he smiled, patting her knee. “But every time the doctors listened to you, we all heard it: two heartbeats. They ran all kinds of tests on you when you were born, just to be sure your heart was all right, but everything was fine. You were a perfectly healthy little baby. Ultimately, they explained the second beat as the equipment providing an echo of your own heartbeat for some reason.”

He shrugged as he scratched his nose. “Maybe, though—maybe there’s something else to it. Maybe there _was_ another heartbeat. Maybe it has something to do with this feeling you have, of never being alone.” His smile lit his deep hazel gaze. “Maybe there’s more to _bashert_ than we understand.”

“So you don’t think I’m—I’m crazy?”

He frowned at the question, at the self-doubt and fear turgid in her green gaze. “Not at all. Not ever.”

Nodding, she allowed a few deep breaths before once more turning her full attention toward her father. Tears rose unwanted in her gaze, tipped over the ledge of her eyelids and glistened as they lined her cheeks. “I’m afraid.”

Already suspecting her answer, he still asked, “Of what?”

“What if—what if whoever I’m connected to like this rejects me? Or worse, doesn’t reject me but doesn’t—doesn’t—”

Seeing her growing anguish, he brushed a lock of her hair away from her face and smiled sadly. “Don’t let all that your mother and I have done wrong scare you away from all that could be right and beautiful about this, _mayn ketsl_.”

He forced back the frown at the way his words hit the source of her worry perfectly. In all the ways he and his wife continued to hurt each other, how they were clearly hurting their daughter was the unforgivable outcome.

“Whatever this is or will be, embrace it. This could be the greatest love of your life, Catherine Jane. Never close yourself off to that kind of hope.”

A tremulous smile finally tugged upward at his daughter’s lips. “I promise I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick language note: Cat's father calls her "Kitten" in Yiddish.


	3. Chapter 3

**_khahshchahv_ **

Rao’s light swirled in ruby hues along the spires of Argo City, lighting the city in the flame and flare of his nightly descent. She stood at her bedroom windows, watching just as she did every night—just as she did every morning when she woke before her parents and watched Rao’s return as he rose over the distant silhouette of Mount Mundru.

Bathed in the scarlet glow of Rao’s daily blessing upon her world, she felt her mind settle, felt a peace of spirit she had learned even as a young girl made her most receptive to the emotions she shared with her _khahshchav_. She smiled as she watched Rao’s glow sliver into shards piercing the impending darkness and reached out for her nightly “check-in.”

On that evening, contentment rolled through her like a warm breeze. She giggled with pleasure at the sensation, immediately drawing the attention of the other occupant of her room.

“What is it, Little One?”

Kara turned in surprise, having momentarily forgotten her aunt’s presence. However, the joy she felt, both from her shared connection and from her own delight, could not be tempered. Hurrying to her bed, she bounced down beside her aunt with an irrepressibly giddy smile.

“It’s them. They’re happy tonight.”

Astra shifted where she sat, turning her body closer to Kara’s. She met gazes with her niece, observing the green tint already beginning to darken her eyes. Both she and Alura had lamented the gradual shift of Kara’s unique eye color until, by six months old, she watched the world through two eyes in identical hues of cerulean and cobalt. However, both sisters had noticed the green still rose in response to the emotions she shared. Her voice dropped to a cautious whisper. “You seem surprised. Are they not usually happy?”

Matching her aunt’s reserved approach to the conversation, she whispered back, “I can sometimes encourage them to be happier with my own mood, but something has made that more difficult recently.” She clutched her fists in her lap, frowning down at them in frustration. “I wish our connection shared more than just feelings. I wish I knew what it was that was causing them so much sadness.”

Astra covered one of her niece’s fists with her hand. “But they are happy this evening.”

“Yes,” she concurred with a relieved smile. She shifted about, unable to suppress her joy not only for these unexpected emotions but also for getting to share them with someone else. Her mother had long ago begun to discourage her from speaking of her _khahshchav_ , at first only when her father was nearby but soon enough in any setting at all. She saw the discomfort that rose in most adults whenever she had mentioned her unique bond—a connection that had all but vanished in the new reality of genetic pairings until no adult even wished to remember any version of Krypton that had existed before the Codex. Children were far less fearful of her ramblings, but Kara quickly learned how cruel they could be toward anyone they deemed different. The teasing and shunning she received soon were enough to silence her almost completely.

She knew, however, Astra would always be a willing audience. It didn’t matter to her the intimidation borne within the gait and mien of General Astra In-Ze. In the security of her home, she was Kara’s beloved aunt and closest confidante. No matter what happened, she knew Astra would always be there to support and protect her.

“Aunt Astra, my _khahshchav—_ they aren’t Kryptonian, are they?”

Her aunt offered her a soft smile while continuing to hold her hand. “Why do you ask, Little One?”

“There’s just something—different about the feelings I sense. And I’ve tried in school to locate whoever it is, but I haven’t gotten any response.”

Concern crept into Astra’s expression. “How have you done this?”

“I’ve tried a few times in class to-to focus on really strong, hard-to-ignore feelings, to see if anyone around me senses them. No one ever seems to react.”

Hearing the frustration in her niece’s voice, Astra soothed, “Krypton is far larger than just your one school, Kara.”

“But my match is supposed to be my age, right?”

“Maybe even born on the same day, yes,” Astra agreed. “But that doesn’t mean they must live in the same city as you—or even on the same continent.” She laughed teasingly. “There has to be _some_ challenge, Little One.”

She considered her aunt’s words, but still ended up shaking her head in disagreement. “I don’t know why, but I just know it, Aunt Astra: They aren’t Kryptonian.”

Her niece’s certainty on the matter comforted Astra—made her hope Kara was correct and the inevitable journey ahead of her, to find her match, would take her far from the more ominous inevitability of Krypton’s future. Eyes glistening in the final brushstrokes of Rao’s light around them, she held Kara’s face between her hands and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “If you believe it to be true, my Little One, then so will I.”

At the sound of Kara’s laughter, Astra wrapped her in a hug and happily let the sound wash over her.


	4. Chapter 4

**_bashert_ **

In the first few weeks following her father’s death, her mother always knew where she could find her—but she never bothered. She simply left her daughter alone, choosing instead to slip off into her own study to lose herself in the bottom of whatever decanter she favored that evening.

To be honest, Cat preferred it that way. Secluded in her father’s office, she could almost convince herself, even if only for a moment, that he would be back to ask her about her newest stories or her latest favorite books. As long as the door was shut and the window shades drawn, she could pretend time had stopped until the moment he could return to her and let her know everything would be all right.

Immersed in the safety she always felt within the one room in the house uniquely his, she clung fiercely to every fading vestige of his presence and feared those moments she was forced to face the world without him. He had always made her believe in the light beyond the darkness—made her hope for happiness that always seemed frustratingly beyond her reach. In his care, she forgot about all the ways she disappointed her mother—by being, by her mother’s own decree, too much of all the wrong things and not enough of the right.

A month after her father’s death, she came home from school to an empty room where once his office had been, and the callous promise that she could have the key to the storage locker that now housed all his belongings the day she was old enough to claim the money he’d left her in her trust fund. As she stared into the emptiness of what had once been her sanctuary, she forced her most neutral expression, refusing to grant her mother one ounce of satisfaction over watching her break in any way.

A week later was the first time she experienced the full-blown terror of what she would soon enough learn was an anxiety attack. Dragged unmercifully from sleep, she plummeted into a tumult of the most unsettling emotions she’d ever experienced. Whatever was happening on the other side of her emotional connection was terrifying, plain and simple. All she could feel was the purest form of fear imaginable. Her heart rocketed in tempo, knocking against her ribs with jackhammer ferocity.

Sweat and tears mingled in rivulets down her cheeks as she struggled to draw air past the tightness in her chest. Where once she had been able to offer a counterbalance to whatever fear or worry she sensed through her connection, in that moment all she could offer was a mirror of dark emotions and pure panic.

And then…nothing.

The tether she had always felt connecting her with this otherness within her snapped, recoiled with such force, she felt actual, physical pain. Gasping to fill the void she’d never known before, she began rubbing her chest in tight, erratic circles—anything to relieve the panic cutting into her with its clutch.

Without thinking, she screamed out in desperation, a jumble of nonsensical noises tumbling from her lips amidst a surge of sorrowful sobs. Even when she registered on some level the light in her room flipping on, the surprising feeling of arms surrounding her or the gentle rocking and comforting whispers she never thought her mother capable of offering, she still couldn’t stop. Clinging with unanticipated desperation, she cried until her mother’s shoulder was soaked with her tears and everything in her ached with a hollowness she couldn’t bear.

When morning’s light finally broke, her mother left her to the shallow sleep to which she’d finally succumbed and secured her the first appointment of the day with her therapist. Comfort from Katherine Grant was a one-time affair for any problem. After that, she placed the issue in the hands of well-paid psychiatric professionals—even when said “issue” was a daughter suddenly unable to say more then a sentence without tumbling into another torrent of tears. Or, worse, a daughter who began having unprovoked panic attacks at unseemly times, which meant panic attacks in public places, much to Katherine’s deep embarrassment.

“I don’t care what it takes, you’ve got to stop her from having these outbursts.” 

Cat slumped further into the cushions of yet another couch in yet another psychiatrist’s office as she listened to her mother. By her calculation, this was the fifth mental health professional her mother had found for her in as many months. She barely had enough time to establish any rapport with any of them before her mother was whisking her away to a new one. It wasn’t that any of them lacked the credentials or compassion to help her daughter. Each one had listened in ways Cat hadn’t experienced from anyone since her father’s passing. Each one had understood the loss of her father was a blow the young woman struggled with daily. Each one showed her the kindness and understanding she knew she would never again find within her own home. And even though she never talked about the _other_ loss in her life—the silence of an emotional bond not completely severed but severely damaged—she found solace in knowing at least someone gave a damn about her well-being, even if they were being paid exorbitantly to do so. 

But her mother wasn’t concerned about finding her a doctor willing to listen or interested in helping. Instead, she dragged her daughter through the ample flotsam of therapists available until she found the one finally willing to do what Katherine Grant thought best. 

“Just give her something that will stop these attacks.” 

Cat understood the unspoken portion of her mother’s request: that someone medicate her daughter to keep her from damaging Katherine Grant’s public persona with further embarrassment. And when finally she found the doctor willing to medicate her daughter without first trying to understand anything at all about the problem, Cat simply let it happen, too tired to fight. Besides, if Cat were honest, she was exhausted from the constant vigilance she held over her own emotions and the flickering embers of the bond she’d never once considered as anything less than a part of her—as permanent as any other necessary part of her being. 

Realizing the bond was in actuality something tenuous, something that still might slip away even with her strengthened focus on keeping it tethered to her, terrified her—though not nearly as badly as when the bond flared to life and filled her with true terror. Whatever was happening to her—her what? Her _bashert_? Her soulmate? Cat frowned in frustration at the lack of consideration she had actually given to this clearly integral part of her life. Whoever she was linked to, they were suffering and scared, and their sudden rush of emotions never failed to leave Cat raw and unprepared to provide any comfort or respite. 

As much as she loathed the thought of enduring a chemical haze at her mother’s insistence, she considered it worth it if the medications they prescribed her could give her some cushioning against the intensity of her bonded’s emotional imbalance. And perhaps, she thought, if she were less affected by whatever was happening, she could focus once more on bringing peace to their connection.

So it was when she accepted the first pills offered her by the latest of her mother’s mental help finds. Without looking at all toward her mother, she popped the pills in her mouth without any of the argument she knew her mother had anticipated—would have gotten, in fact, if this had only been something done for Katherine Grant. Only Cat knew the truth—and only the truth was reason enough for her capitulation. 

Swallowing the pills with the bottle of water the psychiatrist handed her, she closed her eyes and sent up thoughts of hope and comfort that, whatever happened next, she would be able to provide them both the peace they deserved. 


	5. Chapter 5

**_khahshchahv_ **

Her dreams had swirled and sung and pivoted and roared—overwhelming and sometimes frightening abstracts contending with the formless nothing. She’d screamed and cried and begged, laughed and cursed and prayed to a pantheon of gods who had rendered themselves pointless by allowing the obliteration of their believers. She’d ebbed and flowed into the unending sparkle of galaxies and fought against the riptide of eternal darkness with impressive ferocity. She was ageless and ancient, a wizened child orphaned by the earth and taken in by the stars.

She was eternal.

Until she was freed.

Her pod shuddered through the inescapable breach, rousing her from the disorienting sleep of partially damaged stasis. Nothing but her own shallow gasps touched her hearing, and she reached up to clutch her mother’s necklace.

_“The trip is long but you’ll sleep most of the way and we’ll be with you in your dreams.”_

In that moment, she had no knowledge of the horrific truth of her mother’s words—of the universe’s cruel detour that had diverted her not just from her journey but from the life and duties she had promised to fulfill.

All she knew was the wonder of the starscape surrounding her as her pod continued to move toward its programmed endpoint. That had always been one of her most cherished moments from her childhood—traveling through the stars, her father by her side as she accompanied him on his missions to other planets.

She marveled at the beauty surrounding her, shifting and stretching and wondering at the stiffness in her body that weighed down her limbs with a confusing sensation of endurance. As her pod crossed the invisible border of the solar system she recognized as the location of her new home, she perked more. Her gaze roamed across the vista before her even as she felt her pod course-correct to avoid collision with debris floating by her. Her attention on her surroundings dwindled, however, at a sensation stirring internally within her.

Lips parted with soundless surprise even as tears blurred her vision. In a voice reverent and strangely rough to her ears, she whispered, _“khahshchav.”_

The word served as a key, unlocking a depth of emotions not only from a source assumed lost but from deep within herself. Her crying intensified, mingled with the unexpected sound of laughter as she reached out through her connection with all the abundance of the joy and excitement rushing through her in the moment. So much was gone, so much lost to the cold depths of space—but there, in that moment, all she could feel was the happiness of knowing she had been right.

Her _khahshchav_ wasn’t Kryptonian.

Her _khahshchav_ was still alive.

A spike of feeling flooded her—confusion dominated the connection, but with a softer sense of contentment slipping in almost as an afterthought. She frowned as she examined the secondary feeling, wondering at how it felt somehow familiar and yet equally foreign to her—almost as if it were separate but still somehow a part of her connection. Curious, too, was the somber vein she felt coursing through every sensation coming through. Gone, somehow, was the underlying flutter of excitement she had always anticipated. In her connection now, she felt a heaviness—a weight of skepticism that extended the expanse between them, much to Kara’s frustration.

Thoughts jarred to a halt at the sensation of her pod bouncing and jolting into the atmosphere of the planet she instantly recognized as Earth. She took in the sight of her new home, beautifully awash in blue seas and billowing clouds hanging high above. As she descended further and faster toward landfall, sunlight glinted across the bow of her pod, momentarily blinding her with its brilliance. She felt a strange tingling sensation beginning to grow in her eyes, beginning actually to resonate throughout her entire body. She felt electrified, energized in a way that both unsettled and excited her.

Words left her as she focused on these new sensations ricocheting through her body and burning through her veins. All she could do in the moment was reach out, call to her intended with the joy and fear and confusion and excitement jumbling through her. Whatever was happening, she needed to share it.

Cloud cover broke before her and she cried out in fear, her approach far too fast to be safe. Instinctively, she covered her head and ducked low, a strange blur of blue and red beside her the last thing she noticed before clenching her eyes tightly shut.

She felt her pod shift and then slow, the descent trajectory noticeably altering to a more level approach. She stayed covered, however, until she was certain she had stopped moving.

A fresh scream was her response to the painful sound of her pod’s cover tearing away, blue and red once more filling her vision—vision growing too sharp, too focused.

Hearing grew too loud, too cacophonous, echoing through her head as she squinted into the silhouetted face of the man standing before her.

_“bezhgamehd, ,kahrah,zor,ehl,.”_

Even through the dissonant clutter roaring within her ears, Kara frowned in disapproval of this stranger’s horrid assassination of her mother tongue.

Seeing him preparing to speak again, she shook her head, the sound of the movement causing her to clamp her hands over her ears. The bright aura surrounding him grew intolerable the longer she stared, until she shut her eyes once more with a terrified sob.

She felt him gently lift her from her pod, felt them both lift from the ground and begin to fly at speeds she knew should be frightening. In the moment, however, all she could focus on were the frenetic beating of her heart and the overwhelming fear coming through her bond.

And then she filled with a pain more excruciating than any she had felt before—right before all else turned to black.


	6. Chapter 6

**_bashert_ **

The medical intern gawped helplessly for several beats, his hand clutched around his aching jaw. The feral roar of the woman whose left hook had nearly leveled him finally snapped him from his own shock. Reaching once more for the handles of the nearby wheelchair, he tried again. “Ma’am—”

Even as another contraction practically doubled her over onto the floor, she felt a frisson of satisfaction at how her glare made the intern flinch into silence. “Do not ‘ma’am’ me! I want my doctor here now! What the hell else do I pay so much for than for her to be here when I go into labor?”

“Catherine, please calm down.” Her husband placed a hand on her shoulder, only mildly put off when she immediately shoved it away.

With a grateful nod toward the husband for his attempted soothing, the intern stammered, “Ms. Grant, the nurses are trying their best to locate Dr. Matheson. She’s not on-call today, however, so it’s going to take some time.” He startled at the fiery flicker of gold in her green eyes. “We just didn’t expect you to go into labor so soon. You-you’re not due for another three weeks.”

At his words, the intern caught the briefest glimpse of the panic and fear hiding beneath the cover of her fury. Understanding calmed him (though did nothing to ease the pain along his jaw where he was certain he would soon be sporting one hell of a bruise). “Please, Ms. Grant, let me take you to your room and let the nurses work on finding Dr. Matheson. We are going to take care of both of you.”

Mention of her baby finally brought her back into focus. Hands instinctively slipped along the low curve of her belly to cradle it as she sank into the wheelchair proffered her once more. Exhaling a shaky breath, she ran her fingers over the small swell in patterns meant to soothe both mother and child. “I’m sorry I hit you. CatCo’s lawyers will be happy to work out a settlement to cover the damage.”

Chuckling as he released the brake and began pushing the CEO toward her room, the intern replied, “I just need to work on my bob and weave a little more.” Relieved to hear her slightly amused huff, he finished, “Maybe CatCo can give the hospital a nice donation instead.”

The CEO hummed in response, silently cataloguing the suggestion as something to tend to whenever she returned to the office.

Once he’d gotten Cat settled, he promised to send a nurse as soon as possible. She’d barely registered his words, the pain of another contraction already rapidly bearing down on her. Beneath it, however, she felt the constant flood of something more—something once familiar then mostly lost, something once soothing but now utterly terrifying.

Not since the night of her first panic attack had she felt such strength and _presence_ through whatever this connection was—or had once been. Instead of the comfort and companionship she had once believed it provided, it had become a live wire within her, skittering about, unpredictable and dangerous.

Never with any warning or pattern, it would spark within her, filling her with terrified despair her constantly changing medications could barely suppress. Sometimes, in fact, she would barely make it out of sight of whatever judgmental gaze she wanted to avoid—be it her mother or classmates or coworkers, all looking for a weakness to exploit—to allow herself to break under the crush of hopelessness or horror to strike her at whim.

In the years since that first attack, she had slowly worked to convince herself how what she had once believed was _bashert_ had all been nothing more than make-believe. With the help of therapists and her own resolve, she had come to accept it as a fairytale concocted by a young girl trying to explain away a serious impending mental break using the tools her father had cherished most in her: her imagination and her faith in him.

She had never lost that faith, but she had packed away the palliative fables long ago. In their place, she practiced any number of the calming exercises she’d learned in therapy. She would grow so adept at self-calming, she could settle herself in mere minutes with the combination of her exercises and her meds. 

But with pregnancy came her doctor’s edict of no medication until her baby’s birth. The chemical lifeline she’d grown to require severed, she’d found herself once more at the mercy of anxiety flares and exhausted aftermaths that took more and more from her to hide. Thankfully, most people attributed her behavior either to pregnancy hormones or simply to the mercurial persona she’d spent years cultivating.

Loathe though she was to admit it, exploiting the assumptions most people held of her proved to be all the salvation she needed.

But then...

She’d felt the bond reignite so powerfully in the early hours of that morning, ripping her from her sleep and throwing her onto the precipice of one of the worst panic attacks she’d ever experienced. Everything within her seized with the discord of what she imagined one might feel at experiencing full consciousness for the first time in many years. Once more, the thought struck her that whoever she’d once felt so clearly had befallen an accident that left them in some kind of waking coma—some horrifying fugue state that offered only brief moments of terrified clarity.

Several hours later, she awoke once more, choking back disoriented screams filled with an overwhelming sensory abundance shredding the connection raw. Her eyes burned and her head throbbed. When the first contraction swept through her with nauseating sharpness, she felt the connection flare once with terrified confusion and then grow silent. The power, however, still coursed through her, amplifying her own emotions to discomfiting levels.

She would later use this emotional amplification to justify (at least to herself) belting the innocent young intern just trying to help her get to her hospital room. After all, Cat Grant was many things, but pugilistic was not one of them.

Labor moving more swiftly than any of the medical team anticipated, she quickly found herself surrounded by nurses intent on guiding her through the searing pain with nothing more than focused breathing and well-intentioned praise.

Softly, she repeated their instructions to herself, hands protectively palming the swell of her belly. She felt the respondent kick of a tiny foot beneath her hand. She also felt the noticeable calming of the overly amplified emotions tangling with her own.

Several hours later, she lay utterly exhausted, pain wending through parts of her she hoped would never feel such pain again. In her arms, however, slept her precious baby boy, named as she had always planned, after her father. Flushed with pride at how beautiful her son was, she caught herself focusing her emotions in a way that had once been autonomic. For the first time in twenty-four years, she found herself wanting to share a moment like this with her connection.

Her _bashert_.

She thought briefly of the promise she had once made to her father—of never closing herself off to the hope he believed existed within the possibility of her bond.

Yet she had done just that, many years ago. She had accepted the silence of her connection as proof of its nonexistence. Whatever had happened, however, she could only hope the return was real rather than the nonmedicated delusion she feared it might be.

Leaning down, she tenderly kissed her son’s brow. At the sight of him wrinkling his face at the sensation, she laughed softly and smoothed her finger over where she had just kissed. With a coarse voice, she whispered, “I swear I will be here for you, no matter what.”

After the nurse came in much later to return him to the NICU for observation, Cat settled in for a much-needed sleep, realizing even then how she had spoken her promise not just to her son.


	7. Chapter 7

**_khahshchahv_ **

She heard the creak of the floorboard in the center of their room and shifted to the right to allow passage through the open window behind her. Curtains rustled slightly as Alex slipped through onto the roof and sat down in the space she’d just vacated. “You know the neighbors think it’s weird that you sit on the roof, right?”

The brunette felt the jostle of Kara’s shrug against her own shoulder. “I think it is weird the neighbors have nothing else better to do than watch me all the time.”

“ _It’s_ weird,” she playfully corrected. “You’ve got to start using contractions more often, Kara. You sound like that pale robot on that show you always watch.”

“ _He’s_ an android,” the Kryptonian huffed, “and stop acting like you don’t watch it, too. I hear you skulking around in the background when I’m watching. Remember?” She tugged at one of her earlobes. “Alien ears.”

The brunette rolled her eyes but did nothing to deny the accusation. Leaning back against the windowsill, she settled into a comfortable silence beside Kara. It was still new, this truce they’d finally called—this earnest attempt by both girls to really try to behave like sisters, for themselves, for Eliza, for the memory of Jeremiah and all he sacrificed to keep _all_ of his family safe.

Glancing toward the magazine resting in Kara’s lap, Alex nudged into her. “Mom’s looking for that, you know.”

She watched Kara duck her head, a guilty smile tipping her lips, but continue to stroke her fingers in an obviously subconscious way over the cover photo. Alex found herself momentarily beguiled by the peculiar golden slivers she could see in the cover subject’s startling green gaze. “Is this what you’re going to do now that she’s ending her talk show? Sit out here and stare at her picture for an hour every afternoon?”

She smirked at Kara’s surprised gasp. She was certain the Kryptonian had no idea she’d noticed how deeply invested she always became whenever National City’s most prominent media mogul and reigning talk show queen appeared in any capacity. Quickly resettling her expression, she deflected, “I’m sure they will run repetitions of her show.”

Lips shifting to one side in an amused quirk of a smile, Alex corrected, “I’m sure WGBS will run lots of _reruns_.”

At the sound of Kara’s satisfied hum, Alex felt her curiosity pique. “So, what is it about her you find so—interesting?”

Both girls startled at the sound of Kara’s other hand clutching convulsively beside her, tearing a roof shingle up in the motion. Grimacing but grateful for the distraction from Alex’s question, she flicked up her glasses and shot a burst of heat vision to melt the shingle back down into place.

“Okay, now you definitely need to answer my question if it makes you do that.” Even with her teasing, she tempered her voice enough to let Kara know whatever it was she was thinking or feeling, it was safe to tell her.

The brunette waited patiently, cataloguing the emotions to flash across Kara’s expression. Realizing the question was causing a far more unsettled response than she had anticipated, Alex tried to calm her. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Kara.” 

She flashed a lopsided grin when the Kryptonian looked her way. “It can be confusing sometimes—the way certain people make us feel.”

As soon as she spoke the words, Alex felt panic begin to flare within her, images she always tried so hard to suppress growing stronger in her mind. With an irritated shake of her head, she finished, “I just—I won’t ever judge you for however you feel.”

She could see the white-hot glow growing in Kara’s eyes—the tell she still couldn’t control whenever her emotions began to intensify in any way.

“Do humans believe in soulmates?”

Where she had expected Kara to remain silent, Alex found herself surprised by the unexpected question. “Um, I suppose some do.”

She’d heard most of her friends say things about “meant to be” or “made for each other” regarding all variety of their real-life or celebrity crushes. She was fairly certain, however, some had been in reference to fictional characters—and perhaps even the random cartoon.

“Maybe not too seriously, though,” she conceded with a weak shrug.

Kara frowned in disappointment—a sight Alex found herself surprisingly unhappy to see. “We did,” she softly replied. “We believed in _khahshchav_.”

The sound of Kryptonese perked Alex’s attention. “Wait, shh, don’t say what that means.” She narrowed her eyes, sorting through the lessons Kara had shared with her so far. “Breathing One?”

“Close, _i_ _e te_.” She warmed at how pleased Alex was by her reply. She made a flipping gesture with her hands to indicate Alex’s misstep with her translation. “It means ‘one breath.’“

A memory conjured brought a sad smile to her lips. “My mother told me once that when Krypton was much different from the home I knew, _khahshchahv_ meant finding your match—the person with whom you could experience everything with the intimacy of one shared breath.”

“That sounds pretty nice.” The brunette blushed slightly at the wistful tone of her voice. “But what does a story—”

Kara’s expression once more grew serious as she shook her head. “It—it was more than just a story. We used to believe every person was born part of a pair—made at the same moment by the gods and then split and separated. It was their test, to see if we were deserving of their gift of a destined match. It was up to us to find each other—but the gods allowed one connection to remain between us. Whoever or wherever our match was, we shared a bond that would always allow us not only to feel each other’s emotions but also to provide solace and comfort through the bond. It was the gods’ way of blessing us with the most intimate knowing of another soul. If we let ourselves connect the way the gods wanted, our bond would grow strong enough that it would one day lead us to each other.” 

Alex sniffed as she considered Kara’s explanation. “So you didn’t have to be with your match if you didn’t want to be?” 

“No. Sometimes, the bond would reveal far more differences than one or both parties were willing to share. If they made the choice not to connect, then their bond would go dormant. It never completely went away, but it would mute itself enough that we could ignore it completely if that’s what we wanted—or we could revive it if we changed our minds.”

Sadness swirled within the cerulean sea of her gaze. “That was how Kryptonians were able to forego _khahshchahv_ in favor of the genetic pairing the High Council mandated to help ensure our survival. And then, once the birthing matrix took the place of natural child birth—”

She hung her head, a sudden lump in her throat halting her words. Alex watched her quietly, giving her time to sort through the emotions she knew often surged within the Kryptonian whenever she thought too long of home and all its loss. With a clearing of her throat, Kara finally continued, “Children born from the matrix didn’t experience _khahshchahv._ “ She breathed deeply. “Until me.” 

Alex’s gaze snapped upward. “You? You had someone you were connected to?” Swallowing down the pain of the thought to hit her next, she cautiously queried, “Did you—did you feel them the day Krypton exploded?”

Kara shook her head, the smallest lift of her lips sign of her relief. “I _still_ feel them. My bond isn’t to another Kryptonian.” She watched Alex’s eyes widen at the statement, watched them practically pop from their sockets when she finished, “I believe my bond is here, with a human.”

“Are you serious?” She ran her hands through her hair, shock pushing her to repeat her question.

With a slightly more noticeable grin, Kara explained, “Our gods never wanted us to hide away from the rest of the universe. Sometimes, they would bless us with a match who would draw us far afield of our home.” 

“But here? All the way on Earth?” She considered the thought to strike her next. “Do you think that was a sign, that you were always meant to survive?”

The question filled Kara with a flood of guilt. “I-I don’t know.”

Realizing the upset she’d unleashed, Alex pivoted the conversation. “Okay, so they’re here on Earth. How do you find them?”

As Alex watched, Kara’s expression shifted by increments of uncertainty as she struggled to respond. Finally, in a nervous huff, she answered, “I believe I already have.”

“How? Who?”

“When I was born, my father and the High Council thought the birthing matrix had failed in my creation. I had what they considered a significant flaw the matrix should have culled from my genetic sequencing. But my mother and my aunt believed it was the sign I would need to help me find my _khahshchahv_.”

“What was it?”

Touching a fingertip to the corner of one eye, she answered, “For the first six months of my life, one of my eyes matched the color of my _khahshchahv_ ‘s eyes. Both my mother and my aunt always told me it was the color of the rain forests of Jzhetani, flecked through with spirals of golden light.”

Without another word, the Kryptonian lifted the magazine from her lap. Alex stared at the opalescent green-gold gaze of the cover photo, first in confusion and then in uncomfortable surprise.

“Oh, Kara, no. Cat Grant? Are you freaking kidding? Y-you can’t be—I mean, there are plenty of people out there with green eyes!”

She fluttered her hands toward the photo. “Okay, maybe not with gold in them—or-or maybe not the color of the Je-whozit forests—but plenty of people who aren’t a world famous investigative reporter! Who’s married! To a man! And has a _kid_!”

Seeing the hurt her reaction was drawing into Kara’s expression, she tempered her volume and tone—could not temper the rising worry within her.

“Okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out. It’s just, how can you be sure it’s her?”

The Kryptonian shifted her gaze once more to the magazine cover. “We’ve shared an emotional bond my entire life, Alex. Even—even when I was lost, she was with me.” 

Her next several breaths shuddered with the tremors of terror she still struggled against whenever thoughts of her time trapped in limbo overwhelmed her.

Cautiously, Alex settled a hand between her sister’s shoulders and waited. When the initial tension from her touch receded, she began to rub soothing circles to help Kara relax more. “Okay. I believe you, Kara. Cat Grant is your soulmate.” She blew a sigh between pursed lips. “Too bad she’s cancelling her talk show, because _this_ would make one hell of a ratings grab.”

Catching the way Kara squinted at her in confusion, she shrugged somewhat sheepishly. “Sorry, bad joke. It’s just going to be kind of weird to think about for a while, that’s all. I mean, she’s—well, I mean _you’re_ —you’re only—you’re a kid. You’re fifteen—you’re not even old enough to drive.”

“I am _not_ fifteen, Alex.” The steel of nobility that remained within the Kryptonian straightened her spine, gave her posture an almost imposing bearing. In such moments, Kara never looked more alien or more regal to her sister.

Waving her hands in a show of surrender, the brunette softly capitulated, “I know, Kara. I know you’re not really fifteen. But you _look_ fifteen. You act fifteen—a scary-smart, super weird fifteen,” she added, happy to see a hint of amusement highlight Kara’s dark expression.

“Even if Cat Grant is your-your _khahshchav_ —and I’m not saying she isn’t—you can’t do anything about it.”

“Not now, no,” she agreed. 

“Kara—”

“Nothing will happen now, Alex. I promise. I would never do anything to bring shame to the House of Danvers.”

Sighing at her sister’s assumption, she slung her arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly. “I’m not worried about the House of Danvers, silly. I’m worried about you.”

Kara snuggled into Alex’s hold with a grateful hum. “I’ll always be okay as long as I have you.”

Feeling the burn of tears in the back of her throat, Alex tightened her hug with a telling sniffle. “You’ve got me, Kara. I promise.”


	8. Chapter 8

_**bashert** _

“Mama, fy me! Fy me, mama!”

She listened to the thump of tiny feet against hardwood as her son hurried toward the sound of the front door clicking shut behind her. Barely able to release her bag and kick off her heels before he reached her, she dropped to an open-armed crouch and braced for impact. He giggled at the sound of her _oof_ when he jumped into her arms and squealed with glee as she lifted him as high into the air as she could, spinning him until his peals of laughter surrounded her.

When she felt the warning shake in her muscles, she drew him back down, cuddling him tightly in her embrace. “Oh, my precious boy,” she sighed as she covered his face with kisses while walking them down the hall. “Mama missed you all day.”

“Maybe if Mama didn’t stay at work so late every day, she wouldn’t have to miss you so much. Right, Little Man?”

Both mother and son flinched at the words slurred from the darkness of the living room. Glancing only briefly toward the intrusive voice, she caught the glint of one of her glass decanters on the coffee table. Fury spiked within her at the thought of her son left alone with a father too invested in chasing his own inebriated pleasure to bother staying sober until she could get home.

She felt the deserved retort scorching fire along the back of her tongue—felt as well the tension growing in her son’s posture, the grip of his tiny hands against the back of her neck, the painful tug as his fingers tightened and tangled in her hair.

And then she felt the flicker of calm washing through her, offered so tremulously yet with a tenderness and devotion she was slowly growing to accept as a part of herself missing, finally returned.

Pressing her lips together, she drew a steadying breath through her nose and continued without a word down the hall toward her bedroom. Her son instantly relaxed once more in her arms, his cherubic cheeks flushed with color. “Mama kay?”

She gave a passing thought to the manila envelope of willingly signed papers she’d handed off to her lawyer’s courier that morning. “Much better, my darling,” she soothed. She carried him across the threshold of the master bedroom, nudging the door shut behind her.

“Mama fy me ‘gain?”

Her shoulder twinged in protest at the request, warning her he was reaching a size when she wouldn’t be able to perform this particular trick much longer. She didn’t care, however, as she happily hoisted him high in the air and spun him once more. “To the moon and back if I could, Carter.”

He continued to giggle uncontrollably as she soared him toward the massive California king in the center of the room. She fell backward into a pile of pillows and brought him once more safely into her embrace. He snuggled deeply, tiny fingers crushing wrinkles into the silk of her blouse, his soft sighs warming her skin as he pressed his forehead against her neck. “Love Mama.”

She tucked his words away into a heart she guarded with the ferocity of lessons hard-learned and battles barely won.

“I love you, too, Carter.”

By the time she’d finished changing into more comfortable clothes (and tickling her son until he’d squeaked for mercy from “Mama’s tickuh claws”), she was relieved to find the penthouse vacated of the man her mother had always referred to as “my daughter’s first ex-husband.” The only thing she regretted about signing the papers that morning had been knowing she was proving her mother’s prediction correct.

Pushing aside the thought, she focused instead on the beautiful boy happily nestled in her arms—on taking care of him and keeping him safe and making damn certain he knew and never once doubted how much she loved him.

And this time, if there was going to be a custody battle? She wouldn’t back down.

She would win.

At the feeling of tension building within her, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. As she allowed her bond to calm her, Carter squirmed in her arms, lifting his head from where it had been resting against her chest. Soft, dark brows pulled together as he pressed his hands against her cheeks and stared into her eyes. “Mama, I hear your hearts.”

He said it with such concern, she instantly felt the prickle of emotion in the backs of her eyes. “It’s all right, my darling. I’m okay.” She kissed his forehead, pleased to see the skin smooth as he relaxed his expression.

It had been a similar comment from her son several months prior that had sent her to her doctor. She wanted to take no chances on any comment about her health, even one as odd (yet strangely familiar) as her son’s statement about hearing “hearts” inside her. When none of the tests they ran detected any anomalies, her doctor referred her to a cardiologist just to be sure.

Those tests were finding the same nothing her doctor’s had—until the call. Her soon-to-be-ex was two hours late and Carter’s nanny needed to leave. She remembered how the fury beginning to stir in her belly instantly drew sensations of concern through the bond. As she felt the responding sense of calm come through next in almost palpable waves, she heard the monitoring technician gasp in surprise.

Without a word to Cat, the tech hurried from the room. Moments later, the cardiologist returned, ignoring her for several moments as he studied the heart monitor’s readings. Were it not for the confusion to line his features, she might have snapped at the impertinence of his silence. However, the calming balm still flowing through her connection steadied her against her darker emotions.

Finally moving away from the heart monitor, the cardiologist sank down on a stool in front of where she sat. Slowly, he slid his eyeglasses up until they were setting atop his head. “Ms. Grant, my monitoring tech said you received a phone call just now. Is that correct?”

She shrugged one shoulder, mildly annoyed at being ratted out by the technician. “I know I’m not supposed to have a phone in here, but I always keep it on whenever I’m away from my office, in case there are any problems I need to address.”

He offered an absent nod. “Was it an upsetting call?”

Huffing at the understated question, she replied, “I suppose you could say that.”

Again he nodded. “You have an anxiety disorder, correct?” At the warning arch of her brow, he tipped his head and continued, “I ask because your readings indicate what could be a syndrome we’ve associated with anxiety disorders. It’s called mitral valve prolapse.”

Emotions spiking at the words, Cat struggled to keep her focus on the calming strength she could feel increase once more. The cardiologist frowned at the sounds coming from the monitor—frowned even more at the sight of the readings.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Grant, I didn’t mean to worry you. Contrary to its somewhat foreboding name, MVP is not a serious condition, and very few cases ever reach a critical level. It does, however, often manifest during high-anxiety situations.”

Scooting back on his stool, he swiveled the monitor around for her to see and pointed to the readings. “Usually, it will cause one’s heart to race, but sometimes it can cause extra heartbeats.”

He turned back to her, an oddly flustered expression on his face. “You, um—your readings almost seem to indicate _two_ heartbeats, which I’ve got to say, I’ve never encountered before.”

His words sparked fire to the embers of memory Carter’s similar comment had stoked.

_“Did you know we thought you were going to be twins?”_

“What’s almost as strange,” the cardiologist continued while gesturing once more toward the monitor, “is we’re registering this double heartbeat in you right now, but you don’t seem to be having any kind of panic episode, correct?”

She shook her head as she watched the steady, syncopated beats tracked by the monitor, only slightly embarrassed by the tears she felt at the dawning realization of what she was witnessing: confirmation.

The second heartbeat wasn’t hers at all. Her eyes jumped in sync with the rhythm of the heartbeats tracked by the monitor and felt suddenly as if she could float right out of her seat.

Even after nearly two years of the renewed emotional communication through the connection she shared, there always remained this nagging concern that all this was nothing more than a chemical “hiccup” in her brain, convincing her of things she knew were not merely irrational but _impossible_.

In that moment, sitting in a cardiologist’s office, watching two heartbeats so in-sync their lines could be overlaid perfectly, she finally had the proof she needed. Whatever, whoever—they were _real_.

Though far from completely allaying all her questions and concerns, from that moment on, she had made an honest effort to accept more from her connection—to allow them access to her emotions in a way she never had for anyone before.

She found the effort utterly terrifying.

She also found it utterly addicting.

Readjusting Carter in her arms, she carried him into the kitchen, where she placed him in his high chair and began to make them dinner. She laughed and nodded at his constant stream of babble, littered through with random actual words. She knew he rarely communicated like this with anyone other than her. She loved every word he spoke, nonsensical or not.

Once she had finished feeding him dinner and giving him his nightly bath, she carried him into his room and tucked him in with one of the stories her father had always loved to tell her when she had been Carter’s age. It had been so long since she’d thought of any of her father’s stories. Something about the sleepy way Carter blinked his bright blue eyes unleashed the memories with perfect clarity. When finally his breathing evened out and his body sank more deeply into his bed, she drew his blanket up over his thin shoulders and kissed him once more before leaving his room.

Bypassing the decanter still setting on the coffee table, she strode through the living room and out onto the balcony. Warm wind tousled her hair as she emerged onto the concrete extension from her penthouse. At that height, it seemed there was always some kind of wind stirring.

She crossed to the very edge of the balcony, her hands instinctively gripping the guardrail with all her strength. She didn’t feel her normal instinct to back away, however, after standing there for several moments. Instead, she closed her eyes and tipped back her head, enjoying the gentle caress of breezes surrounding her.

With several deep breaths, she turned her focus inward, tugging curiously at the connection within her. The instant responding rush of giddiness curled her lips upward into a pleased, though admittedly still begrudging smile.

The hurt of all those years of fractured silence still gaped within her, a wound barely stitched together even by the nearly constant attention she now received through the revived bond. The damage caused too many questions, too many concerns, too many doubts.

How could something she still couldn’t (logically) explain have such an effect on her? How could she come to care so much for someone she’d never met?

Even in her moments of deepest doubt, however, she felt the bond within her continuing to strengthen and grow in its comfort and care. If this were real, then she realized with no lack of bitter awareness, it was the first time someone other than her father had seen into the parts of herself she’d struggled all her life to keep hidden away—and hadn’t run. Hadn’t judged her. Hadn’t wanted her “fixed” or changed.

What was it, then? What was becoming of this connection? What did it mean that she shared a more intimate emotional bond than any she’d ever experienced, with someone still unseen? And, of course, there was the frustrating mystery of what had happened to whoever was on the other side, that had left them mostly uncommunicative for two dozen years.

Her thoughts circled back around, as they often did, to the puzzle of the missing time between them. The most reasonable, though most upsetting, explanation she could accept was still a coma. If that were the case, then what had happened? Were there lingering complications? Other damage she couldn’t sense? Not that any of those things would dissuade her from continuing to respond to this link—but Cat was far too pragmatic a journalist to ignore any angles to a story, or the complications within those angles.

There was also the continuing quiet concern of the—youthfulness of the emotions she felt. Admittedly, she hadn’t noticed it at first, so overwhelmed by the reactivation of the bond and then by the devastating sorrow and fear that dominated it for months afterward. Cat’s reaction to the oftentimes overwhelmingly painful emotions became so profound at one point, her therapist had worried about the possibility of it being postpartum depression.

Slowly, however, the connection began to change. The sorrow and missing never completely left—even now, she could find the thread if she focused, connecting and anchoring all her bonded one’s other emotions. First to overshadow them, however, was a short-fused frustration combined with an almost constant fugue of confusion.

The confusion continued still, though in much smaller doses. After a while, the frustration morphed into an unrefined excitability that reminded Cat in some ways of Carter’s exuberance whenever experiencing something for the first time.

Even the concern and care she would receive through the bond conveyed with it a certain timid innocence that continued Cat’s reticence about completely opening herself to the bond. There still were certain feelings (though she was surprised to note how few) she couldn’t quite reveal. This overarching concern validated her rationale for holding back.

A gentle nudge through the bond roused her from her downward-spiraling thoughts. She couldn’t help the smile to return to her lips at the curiosity she felt. Relaxing into the sensations, she leaned against the guardrail and stared out over the sparkling sprawl of National City below her. Once more, she opened the door to the connection, her emotions clearly signaling what she wanted to happen next.

Her smile turned from content to excited in the blink of an eye as she felt precisely what she had hoped for. She still couldn’t understand exactly what this particular feeling was, or how her bonded one was experiencing it. To be honest, she wasn’t even sure why she enjoyed it so much.

But, oh, did she enjoy it.

The very first time she’d felt the sensation, she’d rushed outside and to the balcony ledge without the normal trepidation that usually slowed her movements and filled her with dread of the drop beyond. Instead, she’d felt the urge to climb the ledge, to stand astride the railing—to push upward and outward into the moon-faded winter sky.

Only at the final urge did she feel the return of some of her normal fear, looping her fingers tightly around the railing as if afraid she might yet go through with the startling notions swirling through her thoughts.

It was then the worry struck her that something terrible had happened to her bonded other. What else could push someone to feel such vivid desire for tumbling through the sky?

When she’d next felt elation flood her every sense, she’d realized this urge was something joyful, something cherished and celebrated. Whatever they were doing, it was one of the few things she’d experienced through them so far since their return that they absolutely loved—and loved to share with her.

The emotions conjured from that first time experiencing them had been so powerful they lingered with her well into the next morning—so powerful that she _needed_ to share them. When she went to wake her son to start his day, she swooped him up from his crib, his excited squeals of laughter wrapping around her as she spun him high in the air. Instinctively, he’d held his hands out before him, giggling and yelling, “I fy, Mama! I fy!”

She closed her eyes at the happy memory and let herself fall into the wonder of the moment. Turning into the breezes blowing past her, she lifted her head and softly whispered, “Fly me...”


	9. Chapter 9

**_khahshchahv_ **

The apartment door slammed so loudly, she knew even human ears would hurt at the painful report. Grimacing for more reason than that, she slipped out of her bedroom and carefully made her way toward the newly arrived visitor.

The brunette held her silent glare for several unnerving beats, refraining from blinking for so long, Kara felt herself struggling not to squirm. Finally, she broke her stare, letting her head drop forward with a sigh. “Had a lovely talk with Mom before I came over.” 

She held up a hand at hearing Kara preparing to reply. “No. Let me rephrase that.” She lifted her head once more, gaze growing harder with every passing second. “I got to listen to Mom yell at me for half an hour after she learned from you about your new _job_.”

Still not prepared to let her sister speak, Alex chucked her jacket onto a stool and stormed closer. For all her invulnerability, Kara had to fight the urge to back away. “How, Kara? How could you do this?”

“Alex, I need a job! She needs an assistant!”

“She doesn’t need her assistant to be the alien who thinks they’re soulmates!” 

She moved as close as possible and jabbed a finger into her sister’s sternum, frowning at the way Kara didn’t budge at all, no matter how badly she wanted her to. “And you don’t need to be around someone who has built her whole career on sussing out secrets! Jesus, Kara, that’s all you are! One big fucking secret!”

Where her physical attempt at intimidation failed, her words struck hard and low. Kara backed away, stumbling against the armrest of her couch and falling at a sideways angle onto one of the cushions. At the sight of her sister’s shoulders slumping and curling inward, Alex hung her head with a repentant sigh. Quietly, she moved to the couch and sank down beside Kara, opening her arms in a show of contrition. Kara needed no further apology, falling instantly into her embrace with a barely stifled cry. 

Still, Alex softly murmured into her golden waves, “I’m sorry, Kara. I don’t—you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.” 

Each soft sniffle sliced into Alex with a precision she found unbearable. After several minutes, however, Kara sat up, her eyes still glazed but her expression determined. 

“I know this is stupid of me, Alex. I _know_.” 

She swiped angrily at the teardrops dotting her eyelashes. “I can’t be what I’m supposed to be for her—I’ve lost that honor.” Bitterness tattered the edges of her voice. “But I can finally be for her what she’s always been for me.” 

Seeing the envious flicker in Alex’s expression, Kara caught her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Hey. Talk to me, Alex.” 

The brunette huffed with embarrassment, her eyes focused on the way Kara’s hand covered hers so completely. She knew it was ludicrous how she felt—knew there was nothing about the origin of Kara’s connection to Cat that Kara could control. Still, whenever she heard her sister speak of Cat, something within her sparked a response she always hated. 

“There’s always been a part of me kind of—well, kind of jealous of the fact that Cat was the first human you knew—even though you didn’t actually _know_ she was human.”

When she finally looked up, she watched Kara’s expression soften with the smile she knew her sister reserved for her. “You are the _only_ reason I’ve ever felt I belong here, Alex—even if it did take you a while to come around to me,” she added, chuckling at the way Alex quirked her lips to the side at Kara’s gentle teasing. 

The brunette laughed at the statement and pulled Kara in for another hug. When they separated once more, Kara finished, “You might not have been the first human in my life, but I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

She watched her words settle and soothe her sister. “We can get through anything together, right?” 

“Always.” Kara’s expression sobered as she worked up the courage to continue. “Which is why I need your support on this, Alex. I-I need to do this. I need to be there for her.” 

She fidgeted absently with a string on her sleeve. “All those years I was trapped in _vrrosh_ _:_ _dokhahsh_ _,_ she was my only connection to the reality beyond that limbo. And when my pod’s stasis generator would fluctuate and I would wake up terrified and alone, sh-she always calmed me and made me feel safe—but I realize now that it came at a price to her.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Kara raised her gaze enough to make eye contact for scant seconds before shifting once more to stare down at her lap. “Do you know what Lexapro is?” 

Alex’s brow furrowed at the unanticipated query. “It’s, um, it’s a pretty heavy-duty anti-anxiety medication.” 

Worry spiked within her at the way her sister’s expression instantly crumpled with guilt. 

“Cat takes a fairly large dose of it daily.” 

“How do you know this?” 

Swallowing back the nervous waiver in her voice, she replied, “I-I might have scanned her desk during my interview and saw her prescription bottle.” 

“Kara!” 

The blonde cringed at her sister’s volume. “I know! I invaded her privacy, which is so wrong on so many different levels—but I-I-I panicked! I was just trying to do whatever it took to convince her to hire me!” 

“What if she’d caught you? Or worse, what if she’d figured out who you are during the interview?” 

Unable to answer her sister’s justified concerns, Kara opted to offer a weak, “She didn’t. She didn’t figure any of it out, Alex. What she _did_ do was hire me. Starting next Monday, I will officially be Cat Grant’s personal assistant.” 

Leaning back with a frustrated sigh, Alex crossed her arms and shook her head. If ( _when,_ she shuddered) their mother found out how this was so much worse than just Kara working for an internationally renowned investigative journalist—finally found out the truth Alex had kept from her ever since the afternoon Kara had first explained _khahshchahv_ to the brunette—she was never going to hear the end of the litany of reasons Alex never should have humored Kara’s infatuation in the first place. 

Even as she thought the words, however, Alex knew in her heart how wrong it was to dismiss Kara’s abiding belief in her connection to Cat. As much as she had wanted to somehow disprove Kara’s claim, she knew she couldn’t. The evidence she’d witnessed all frustratingly fell in-line in support of what her rational side still wanted to dismiss as make-believe. 

Her sister’s constant emotional “conversations” with the woman now heralded as the Queen of All Media had given them clues to several major events within Cat’s life, well before anything hit the news: impending divorce, award wins, three major global expansions that had Kara pacing nonstop from nerves and asking disconcerting questions about how old a Kryptonian needed to be to try hard liquor, and the night they would later learn Cat’s son had broken his arm in a car accident while with his father. 

On that particularly awful evening, Alex had watched Kara nearly hyperventilate from Cat’s anxiety before finally taking control of the bond. Using Kryptonian meditation techniques, she had regulated her breathing and quietly focused all her effort on maintaining her own calm against the rage of Cat’s clear panic. Alex had fallen asleep that night rubbing circles against Kara’s back and listening to her softly whispered mantra: “It’s going to be all right.”

Against all logic, Alex knew whatever Kara shared with Cat, it _was_ real—and had the equally real potential to devastate her sister with heartbreak. 

“Kara, I just—this is _such_ a bad idea.” 

“Please, Alex. Can’t you just be happy for me and let me worry about everything else?” She reached out and took her sister’s hand once more. “I’m finally going to be of use to her.” 

The brunette relented with a slight squeeze of her fingers around Kara’s hand. “I know, Kara, but I don’t want to see you hurt by this. I mean, have you really thought this through? You’re going to be around her all day, every day—and you can never tell her the truth about who or what you are. How is that not going to hurt you?” 

Kara nodded, conceding willingly to Alex’s concerns. “It probably _will_ hurt me—but it will be worth it.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

Her smile was bright and her answer was instant. “Because _she’s_ worth it. Among all the countless beings out there in the universe, Rao paired us and gifted us this precious bond. We may never be one breath as Rao meant for us to be, but at least I can take care of _her_ now—keep her safe and make her life a little bit easier.” 

For several beats, Alex found herself unable to speak, her throat tight with the emotions Kara’s words drew to her surface. When she finally managed to nod, she couldn’t hold back the surprised laugh or the tears to slip from her eyes at how quickly Kara hugged her once more. 

With a self-conscious clearing of her throat, the brunette asked, “So, what’s she like?”

The unconscious shiver surprised Alex. “She’s—she’s _very_ intimidating.” A beat of silence passed between them and when Kara spoke again, it was in a whisper. “K-kind of _terrifying_.”

Alex couldn’t suppress the responding snort. “Kara, you’re invincible and unbreakable, and Cat Grant literally looks like she could fit inside you—and I _so_ did not mean that in any dirty way,” she hastily tacked on the moment she felt Kara tense in response.

Fighting through a raging blush and embarrassed stammer, Kara shook her head. “Alex, I watched someone run from her office _in tears_ while I was waiting for my interview!” 

“Tell me again why you want to work for her?”

Despite herself, Kara laughed brightly at Alex’s question. “She’s definitely going to be a challenge—but I want to do this. I _need_ to do this.”

With a resigned sigh, Alex settled back where she sat, tugging Kara along to snuggle into her hold. “All right,” she conceded. “Whatever you need to do, Kara, I’m here. We’ll—we’ll just figure out whatever happens as it happens.” 

The release of tension from Kara’s body was instant. “Thank you, Alex.” 

Kissing her sister’s forehead, Alex slipped her phone from her pocket and hit the speed dial programmed right after Kara’s. Kara listened with glee as she proceeded to order enough pot stickers and spring rolls to satiate even a Kryptonian appetite. When she hung up, she declared, “This is just to tide you over. Proper celebration this weekend. We hit the town Saturday night, okay?” 

Kara simply nodded as she settled into her sister’s hug. It was all she really needed—all she ever needed from Alex. The rest of the evening passed with Netflix bingeing and Alex watching as Kara devoured “more grease than I think I’ve eaten all year.” All Kara could do was roll her eyes at the sentiment, mouth far too full to allow for any verbal response. 

Once Alex left for the evening, Kara curled up against the armrest of one side of the couch with a sigh. She knew Alex was still struggling with her decision—would probably struggle with it for quite a while. All she wanted was to protect Kara and keep her and her secret safe from all the potential dangers that could befall her if the wrong people knew. 

Contrary to Alex’s fear, however, Kara knew Cat was not one of those wrong people. 

Kara had quickly understood certain protocols in her new life. One of those was how (or how often) she spoke of Krypton. To her new family, Krypton was a trigger warning—a radioactive topic with an incalculable emotional half-life. They respected her memories with the same wary care one used with anything precious but irreparably broken and irreplaceable. 

Quickly enough, she learned Kara Zor-El was that precious vulnerability from which the Danverses believed they needed to protect her. The fewer times she forgot her Earth name for her true name, the more pleased their smiles. The less she mentioned memories of her home world, the more they encouraged her to speak of her experiences on Earth. The fewer times she chose Kryptonese over English, the more progress they assumed she was making. 

Beneath the expanding presence of Kara Danvers, however, she hid the secret sorrow of her truth: The less she spoke of Krypton, the more she lost of an already obliterated world. Each memory silenced—each trill and whorl of breath forgotten from her native tongue, each detail and color of Rao’s light blurred, each ritual skipped, each holiday replaced—diminished Kara Zor-El.

Cat, however, kept her bound to her former life, representing Krypton to her in ways not even her cousin could. Cat would never get to see Kara’s home, but she had _felt_ it. She had felt Kara’s joy as she watched Rao rise. She had experienced the reverence of the ceremonies Kara had performed while donned in her _rrahdhuhs_ robes. She knew the depths of Kara’s love for her family, her worry at what even a child could understand of her world’s fate, her frustration at being kept in the dark about the full truth—and only Cat could ever truly understand what it felt like to watch her home world die. 

Cat was the bridge that connected Kara Zor-El and Kara Danvers in ways she knew everyone else would discourage—or, worse, would fear. For those reasons alone, Kara knew she would sacrifice anything she had to if it meant keeping this last true, real connection to her former self alive and flourishing in her life. 

Let it hurt. 

The pain was simply another indication of how real it all was.


	10. Chapter 10

**_bashert_**  

It was far too early for whiskey. Intrinsically, she knew this to be true but, selfishly, all she wanted more than anything in that moment was a two-finger pour, neat. Maybe that would be enough to salvage the afternoon before it went in the same downward spiral as her morning. 

At the thought, she glared down at the layout clenched tightly in one hand, feeling the grease pencil she held in the other begin to bend from the tension in her grip.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered under her breath, “Honestly, are preschoolers with a batch of broken crayons running our art department now?” 

With a disappointed sigh and a final edit made with admittedly far too much flourish, Cat dropped the layout and her glasses onto her desk. Swiveling her gray wingback chair, she swung her legs up onto her desk and let her gaze drift out the balcony door while absently tapping the grease pencil against her bottom lip. Peripherally, she noted how her movements had caught the full attention of her assistant.

She felt the skin around her eyes tighten with the pensive squint thoughts of Kara always drew. From their initial interview to six months later, Kara had become more integral to the smooth operation of Cat’s days than she could remember another assistant ever becoming. It was almost annoying, really, how quickly Kara had figured out the frenetic rhythms not only of CatCo but of Cat herself. After all, the CEO had spent far too long cultivating an air of unpredictability to have it cracked in a matter of months by the latest body to warm the seat outside her office.    

Then again, she was beginning to realize Kara was intent on becoming more to her than another disappointment disguised as help. There were bumpy moments between them at first, of course. Cat had never coddled any of her employees, especially one expected to know the CEO’s professional life better than she did. Kara had made her share of missteps along the way, but had remained faultless in her determination to stand up and move forward with getting it right, whatever the task at hand.  

And how she had become so adept at navigating the CEO’s landmine temperament was something even Cat would admit (in the privacy of her own thoughts) impressive. It was as if Kara possessed some kind of prescience when it came to the CEO’s moods, mercurial though they could be—almost as if she could sense the impending shift.

That particular thought, however, led to far more complicated ones Cat assured herself couldn’t possibly apply to her assistant.

As if summoned by the CEO’s thoughts, Kara quietly entered the office. Cat noted, however, how she didn’t immediately approach her desk. Continuing to stare out the balcony door while tracking Kara’s movements peripherally, she listened to the familiar click of M&Ms clattering into a glass tumbler that suddenly appeared within her reach on her desk.

“I was heading down to legal to deliver the paperwork you signed this morning. I could take this layout back to the art department on my way, if you’re finished with it.”

With a waggle of her fingers in Kara’s general direction, she sighed, “When you drop off _this_ round, be sure to congratulate them for finally correcting all their inexplicable typos. Now, perhaps, they can do something about their atrocious color choices. It looks far less like holiday cheer and more like ‘One, two, Freddy’s coming for you.’”

She heard the soft snort of amusement. “Yes, Ms. Grant.”

Dropping her grease pencil where Kara had just removed the layout, she reached instinctively for the glass of M&Ms. “And when you return, call HR and let them know I want them to prepare a job posting by COB today for a new art director.”

Cat imagined she could feel the frown she knew was creasing her assistant’s features. “If you’re about to remind me it’s the holidays, Kiera, you can tell HR to dust off my standard personal assistant posting as well. I’m sure they keep that one at the top of their queue.”

The crunch of candy was nearly loud enough to overpower the sound of Kara’s soft, “Yes, Ms. Grant,” before she quickly scurried off. 

With a sigh, Cat dropped the rest of the candies back into the glass, pushing it out of her reach as she did. Her assistant’s reactions should _not_ matter to her. She also should not have to remind herself of this fact as often as she did. Kara had a way, though, of slipping between her defenses in the least ingratiating way—which only served to irritate her even more.

Closing her eyes, she focused on her connection with her _bashert_. A soft smile lifted the corners of her mouth at the instantaneous rush of happiness she felt in return. 

Something was changing with their bond, her _bashert_ growing bolder and more—aware. 

Cat had noticed in recent months how there were times she would receive precisely the right response mere seconds after allowing herself to share her emotions through the connection. It almost felt at though sometimes her _bashert_ already knew what she needed and was merely waiting for permission to provide it.

Again, she found herself frowning at the implication. 

The vibration of an incoming call on her cell phone jarred her from her contemplation. Checking the caller ID, she immediately glared at the number of her personal lawyer. She hit the answer button and rose to head out to her balcony.

Kicking the door shut behind her, she sighed, “I assume since I asked you not to bother me unless it was with bad news, I’m not going to enjoy this conversation in the slightest.” 

“I’m afraid not, Ms. Grant.” 

The voice through the phone line was calm, strong, and confident—all reasons why Cat had kept this particular lawyer on retainer far longer than any other. However, in that moment, she could detect a slight reticence that ramped up her worry significantly. 

“Your ex-husband is not giving up in his petition for the judge to reconsider your current custody arrangement. He continues to insist he is entitled—” 

Cat’s voice growled with protective fury. “I don’t give a damn what Joe thinks he’s _entitled_ to. Perhaps if he had cut back on all that entitlement of his while we were married, we wouldn’t be having any of these conversations.”

“I do understand that, Ms. Grant. However, the point is that Mr. Morgan is continuing to insist on adjusting your custody schedule to grant him more time with Carter.”

Fighting the urge to slam her phone down against the concrete floor of the balcony, Cat sneered, “We both know the only reason he’s asking for this _adjustment_ to our custody arrangement is because he’s angry the judge didn’t approve his request to lower his child support after CatCo expanded into Eastern Europe.”

The spikes of emotion within her drew concern from her connection. “He’s behaving like I’m somehow absconding with the money myself. Every goddamned dime he pays is for our son!”

Beneath the rage she could already feel pouring through her still-open connection, Cat felt her fear threatening to consume all else within her. She felt, too, the insistent peace now coming back to her through the bond, soothing her pique. 

Breathing deeply several times, she accepted as much of the comfort as she could, before deciding to draw the phone call to a close. “Ms. Warner, I pay you to take care of situations just like this, so _take care of it_. I am not giving up any of my rights to Carter because Joe’s having a spoiled man-child temper tantrum. Fix it and bill me.”

Jabbing her thumb down onto her screen to end the call, Cat sighed and sank onto the couch behind her. She allowed some of her more aggressive emotions to abate while offering gratitude through the bond. It was at times like that when she once more regretted not being able to send more than just emotions through their connection. She wanted to actually put her feelings into words, to explain what was happening in her life and why the connection was always important to her, but so much more during times like the one she was currently facing. 

More than anything else, however, she wanted access to more than just her _bashert_ ’s emotions. She wanted to be in the same room with them, to meet them and know they truly were once more all right—and finally to thank them for caring for her more deeply than anyone other than her father or her son had ever cared for her in her whole life. 

“Ms. Grant?”

The CEO startled at the soft beckon, not having heard her assistant come out onto the balcony. Refusing to look up, she instead blinked several times to clear her gaze while replying, “What is it, Kiera?”

If her assistant noticed the slight quaver in Cat’s voice, she politely ignored it. “I wanted to check if you needed anything before I left to pick up your lunch.” 

Cat saw the hesitant shuffle of Kara’s feet and finally lifted her gaze with a theatrical eye roll.  However, she leaned back in surprise at the small dish Kara held in one hand and the glass of water she held in the other. 

With a shaky inhalation, Kara explained, “Things have been so hectic this morning, I-I thought you might want your Lexapro today.”

Seeing the way Cat’s brow began to furrow, Kara shuffled back slightly. “But I can—I can take them back if-if you don’t need them today. I didn’t mean to overstep or assume in any way.”

The CEO continued to stare up at her assistant, her eyes narrowing and her lips pursing in the way Kara knew meant she was most likely preparing a cutting response. Trying her best to brace for whatever scathing words were about to come her way, she nearly gasped aloud at how Cat instead set down her phone and held out her hand for the pills. 

With a smile, she tipped the pills into the CEO’s palm, quickly extending the glass next as Cat popped the tablets into her mouth. Washing down the medication, Cat returned the glass to her assistant who was now practically aglow with relief. 

The CEO collected her phone and rose, her lips twitching once in defiance at her determination not to acknowledge her assistant’s pleasure. As she passed, she called over her shoulder, “My lunch isn’t going to retrieve itself, Kiera.”

Jumping at the sentiment, Kara hurried into motion, somehow making it to the balcony door before Cat. She held open the door while nodding furiously. “Of course, Ms. Grant. I’ll go right away.”

Before the CEO could gather her thoughts enough to reply, Kara was out the office in a blur of blonde hair and brightly colored cardigan. 

“I swear, she’s going to plow a hole through a wall one day,” the CEO muttered as she settled once more behind her desk. A freshly delivered stack of layouts awaited her attention.

By the time Kara returned, Cat had once more worked herself into a fit of annoyance at the incompetence of her art department. Without a word, Kara moved into the office, unpacking the CEO’s lunch onto a tray, pouring her a glass of water as well as one finger of her favorite scotch in another glass, and selecting a set of chopsticks from the collection Cat kept in her office credenza. She slipped the tray in front of the layouts holding both Cat’s attention and fury, tucking a printout beneath the upper corner before she turned and began to leave. 

“What’s this?” Cat’s fingers tugged at the printout even as she continued to mark up the layout she studied with a glare Kara thought might actually be able to burn a hole through the CEO’s desk.

At the sight of Cat waving the printout without looking up, Kara stumbled back into the office, fidgeting nervously with her glasses. “It’s, um, it’s the job description you requested. I stopped into HR on my way out and let them know you’d want to see the copy as soon as possible.” 

Kara’s explanation finally pulled Cat’s gaze upward. Eyebrow notching upward, the CEO queried, “And what prompted you to do that, Kiera?” 

Kara felt the sincere curiosity beneath the snide tone and straightened her stance in response. “Because I took a look at the layouts you’re reviewing right now before I dropped them off.” Her nose crinkled. “They looked worse than the last batch—at least to me,” she softly added as her posture deflated slightly under Cat’s unyielding stare. 

The CEO lifted her chin slightly, her gaze sweeping Kara’s expression until she was certain her assistant might wriggle out of her own skin. Just as quietly, she shifted her gaze back down to the layouts, once more marking furiously with her grease pencil. However, as Kara turned to go, she casually dropped, “Perhaps I should start having you review layouts before me—to weed out the blatant errors that only serve to waste my time.” 

“Y-yes, Ms. Grant. I’d be happy to help with that. Whatever you need.” 

The CEO flicked her pencil in Kara’s general direction as dismissal, pleased to feel her assistant’s enthusiasm. 

Only after she finished the stack of layouts did she realize she had confused hearing the excitement in Kara’s voice with actually experiencing the emotion. Frowning at the error, she pinched the bridge of her nose and swore to herself she would leave on time if it meant setting fire to every layout left on her desk at the end of the day.

When she breezed past Kara at precisely five o’clock, she caught the happy crinkle of her assistant’s gaze behind her glasses. “Have a good evening, Ms. Grant.”

The CEO hummed in acknowledgement before gliding into the always-waiting car of her personal elevator. Her final view as the doors closed was of Kara waving as she absentmindedly adjusted her glasses. 

Unfortunately, not even the well-meaning wishes of her exuberant assistant could fix the fact that she had forgotten to bring home the next stack of documents from legal she needed to review and sign. As her driver navigated toward her son’s school to pick him up from his science club, she sighed and called out, “Terrence, I’m going to need you to take me back to CatCo before heading home.”

The driver shifted his gaze to the rear-view mirror. “No problem, Ms. Grant.” His eyes narrowed teasingly. “You already fire your latest assistant?”

Cat narrowed her own eyes at the sentiment, although Terrence could see the flicker of amusement in her glare. “I have _not_ , thank you. Kara earned a quiet evening after all she did throughout today.”

“Sounds like she’s working out for you. You’re even calling her the right name. It took me almost two years to earn that privilege.”

“Keep it up, Tristan, and it will take you two more to earn back the luxury.”

Her lips curled in amusement at the sound of her driver’s huff.

As they pulled up to the waiting area outside Carter’s school, she texted his phone to let him know she had arrived. Seconds later, she caught sight of his dark curls bouncing in rhythm with his trot down the steps and toward the car.

Terrence barely moved fast enough to open the back door before Carter was breezing past him and onto the seat beside his mother, high-fiving the driver as he slid into the car.

With a playful laugh, he wrapped his mom in the biggest hug he could manage. Cat felt happiness radiate through her—felt so overwhelmed with it that she couldn’t help but share it through her bond. “Did you have a good day, darling?”

That was all the prompting the young boy needed as he launched into an excited ramble about his day that only halted when he realized they were slowing outside his mother’s private entrance to her office building.

With a perplexed frown, he sighed, “You have to work tonight?”

“Yes, but nothing I can’t take care of after you go to bed. However, it does help when I remember to bring the work with me when I leave.”

Carter laughed at the way his mother prodded him toward the door with her fingers crooked for tickling. Tumbling out in front of her, he hopped up onto the sidewalk and took her hand to help her out of the back.

Smiling at his chivalry, the CEO slipped from the Mercedes, sighing, “We shouldn’t be long.”

She heard Terrence hum in acknowledgement as she pushed the door shut behind her and followed after her son. The young boy navigated swiftly to her elevator, waving to the night guards he recognized. The CEO merely nodded as she passed, but the guards noted her relaxed demeanor whenever her son accompanied her into the office.

Riding up to the top floor, the two Grants exited into the dimmed lighting and quiet ambiance of a nearly empty bullpen. Cat strode into her office, Carter ghosting her hip as he often did whenever they were at CatCo after hours. She froze in mid-stride, however, at the sight of an open bag of M&Ms setting atop her bar.

With a frown, she started to launch into a diatribe about how that was a sure-fire way to invite vermin into her pristine office. However, her jaw clacked shut at the brief hint of confusion to slip through her bond before dissipating, followed by an unanticipated interruption.

“Ms. Grant?” The CEO and her son both turned toward the inquisitive sound, met by the sight of Kara entering Cat’s office. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were coming back this evening.”

Cat shifted her gaze downward, noting Kara was holding the two crystal tumblers from her bar. It took a moment for her to understand. “You know the cleaning crew is more than capable of washing those.”

Kara shook her head as she continued to cross the office to return the glasses to their rightful places. “I don’t mind. Besides, it reminds me to refill your M&M stash.” 

As she spoke, she finished dumping the rest of the bag of chocolate candies into the ice bucket she’d turned into a makeshift candy dish. “I’m almost finished—but I can leave now to be out of your way.”

“No need. I just didn’t know you stayed this late to organize my office.” The CEO internally chastised herself for the apologetic timbre in her voice.

“Oh, I usually do all this when I get in in the morning,” Kara quickly corrected with a nervous smile. “But I’m having breakfast with my sister tomorrow, and, even though we’re meeting at Noonan’s and she doesn’t really have a lot of time before she has to head off to the lab, because I’m sure she’s got at least three experiments running that she’s going to have to check on as soon as she gets in—”

She caught herself the moment she felt Cat’s amusement rising through her bond, which the CEO disguised behind the deflective arch of her brow and the admonishing tilt of her head. “Sorry. Still working on all that extra talking I do.” 

Her attention instantly shifted toward the sound of soft laughter coming from the boy standing slightly behind the CEO. Sensing the uptick of tension from Cat and seeing his instant nervousness the moment he realized Kara was looking at him, she carefully lowered her gaze while offering him a smile. 

Cat watched her assistant with open curiosity at how quickly she seemed to understand Carter’s reservations about eye contact with strangers. Reaching out, she draped an arm along her son’s shoulders and nudged him forward slightly while still letting him stick close to her side. “This is my son, Carter.”

Bright blue eyes turned upward toward his mother, who smiled and nodded her encouragement. Extending a slightly trembling hand, he carefully focused his attention on the bridge of Kara’s glasses—as close to eye contact as he felt comfortable with in the moment. 

As soon as she caught the movement of his hand toward her, Kara once more looked up, her smile brightening. She happily reached forward, giving his hand a solid shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Carter. I’m your mom’s assistant, Kara.”

Though he didn’t respond verbally, Kara warmed at the way he smiled softly and even briefly met her gaze before shifting his eyes back to the center point of her glasses. 

The buzz of Cat’s phone broke the moment as Carter and Kara both shifted their attention toward the sound. Pulling out the device from her bag, Cat quickly steadied her expression before turning toward her son. “Sweetheart, I need to take this call in private.”

Seeing the line of his shoulders beginning to tense, Kara quickly offered, “Ms. Grant, would it be all right if I asked for Carter’s help in picking a new hot cocoa mix for the break room?” She dipped her head enough to catch Carter’s gaze. “I can’t decide which one tastes better, but I bet you could.”

To Cat’s surprise, Carter only paused a moment before turning toward her for permission. With a nod, she smiled at her son. “I’ll come find you when I’m finished.” 

Cat watched as Carter moved to Kara’s side, taking her hand and beginning to lead her toward the break room. Her last glimpse of the duo was of Kara flashing a smile over her shoulder as she obediently followed after Carter. 

With a frustrated sigh, Cat then pivoted and headed toward her balcony while snapping into her phone, “Is there even one half-decent reason why I shouldn’t hang up on you right now?”

Joe’s voice was gruff, tired. “We need to finish this, Cat. No more legal bullshit. Just you and me.”

“What? Tired of paying for your lawyers now, too?” 

“It’s always about money with you, isn’t it?”

With a huff of disdain, Cat leaned back against the balcony ledge. “That’s quite the accusation coming from you.”

“You don’t need my money! You’re just doing this—” 

“The money isn’t for me and you know it!”

She drew a breath, suddenly aware of the soothing sensations coming from her _bashert_. She glanced through the balcony door, momentarily confused by the fact that Kara wasn’t nearby. 

“If you want to keep lashing out at me, fine. After all, we’ve made high art of hurting each other. But you will _not_ hurt our son. Anything else that needs to be said can be done by our lawyers.”

With that, she closed the line and immediately powered down her phone. Turning, she stared out over the city, the sparkling lights below blurred along the edges from the tears she refused to acknowledge. Instead, she focused on enjoying for a few moments the care and comfort coming through from her _bashert_.

Once more calm, she tucked away her phone, collected the documents she had come for, and went in search of her son and assistant. 

They sat in the break room, each with two cups setting in front of them, filled halfway with hot cocoa. Carter picked up the one on his right, taking a careful sip of the hot beverage. Kara mimicked his moves but took a much larger helping of her half. 

When Kara set down her cup, Carter burst into a fit of giggles at the line of chocolate she now sported above her upper lip. The blonde eyed him curiously before crossing her eyes and acting as though she were trying to see whatever it was he was pointing at.

Cat remained just out of sight in the shadows, listening to the beauty of her son’s laughter, so carefree and bright. However, it was her assistant she couldn’t stop watching, her goofy antics the cause of Carter’s happiness.

Cat was used to all manner of opportunists, backstabbers, and manipulators in her professional dealings. What she wasn’t used to at all were the things Kara offered in abundance: earnestness, loyalty, compassion, kindness. Nothing about Kara was what Cat expected from her—and yet every day, she somehow managed to exceed Cat’s highest expectations. 

With a shake of her head, the CEO shut down the pointless ruminations regarding Kara and stepped into the break room. Placing her hands on Carter’s shoulders, she shot a questioning glance toward her assistant. Kara flushed an unbearably flattering shade of rose as she grabbed a napkin and wiped away the hot cocoa from her upper lip while softly mumbling, “Sorry,” from behind the paper barrier.

Resisting the temptation to tease Kara, Cat instead shifted her attention to her still giggling son. “And what is your decision on your taste test,” she queried as she swiped a bit of chocolate from Carter’s chin. 

“Definitely the first one,” he immediately replied, turning to smile at Kara.

Her responding grin was resplendent as she nodded confirmation. “Then that’s the one I’ll order. Thank you very much for your help.” 

Gently squeezing her son’s shoulders, Cat backed away slightly and sighed, “All right then, Carter. It’s time for us to head home.” 

“Oh, wait!” Kara slipped from her seat, returning quickly with a lid for the cup containing the cocoa Carter had chosen as his favorite. “Wouldn’t want this to go to waste,” she smiled as she snapped on the lid and handed him the cup.

When he rose, Carter accepted the cup with one hand, paused, and then extended his other toward Kara. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Kara.” 

Cat’s lips parted in silent surprise at how easily Carter took her hand and held actual eye contact with her that time. “Ditto, Carter,” her assistant replied with a smile so warm, Cat had to look away. 

Clearing her throat, the CEO pivoted and began toward the break room door, her heels clicking sharply against the tile. Pleased to hear her son scrambling to follow, she waggled her fingers over her shoulder in Kara’s general direction. “Last one out shuts off the lights,” she called, refusing to give in to the temptation of sharing pleasantries with her assistant. 

The soft sound of Kara’s laughter followed her through the exit, hung in her mind almost the entire ride home. In fact, it was with reluctance and a modicum of embarrassment she had to ask Carter to repeat whatever he had just asked as they left the car and started heading up to their penthouse. 

Pushing aside all distracting thoughts after that, Cat made certain to focus solely on her son as they prepared and ate dinner and then settled in the living room afterward. While Carter worked on something on his tablet, Cat absently perused the documents she’d needed from CatCo, slowly paying more attention to her son the more she sorted through them.

Finally, after watching Carter for several minutes flip through multiple browser pages on his tablet, frustration growing more and more defined on his features, Cat nudged him with her foot to draw his attention. “What on earth are you reading? You look like you’re about to shoot lasers through your tablet.”

“Did you know you have heterochromia?” 

Cat studied her son curiously at his unexpected response. “You mean my eyes? Yes, darling. I have what’s called central heterochromia, which means—” 

“You have a different color in your irises, but only around your pupils—not like complete heterochromia, which means you’d have two differently colored eyes.”

Carter laughed at the feel of his mom swiping her hand messily through his curls. “Okay, so why this fascination with my eyes?”

Dodging the question, Carter continued, “And did you know that some people’s eye color can change based on their emotional status?” At the disbelieving smirk his statement earned from his mother, he shook his head and pressed, “No, seriously!” 

He pulled up one of the tabs he’d been reading and showed it to her. “One of the body’s reactions to strong emotions is a change in pupil size. So, if someone has different colors in their irises, like you have, when the pupil grows or contracts, it will either compress or spread those colors in the iris. If the different colors are abundant enough, they can make it look like someone’s eye color has changed.”

His frustration began to show once more. “It’s usually just a slight color change, though, and it doesn’t last long.”

As she scanned the page Carter was showing her, she nodded her understanding. “This is all very interesting, Carter, but it still doesn’t explain your sudden obsession with eye color.”

With a soft sigh, he set his tablet in his lap and averted his own gaze from hers for several beats. Cat waited patiently, knowing he needed a quiet moment to organize his thoughts. Finally, he stated, “I noticed Kara’s eyes.” 

Confusion growing stronger by the minute, Cat replied, “My assistant? Her eyes are blue.” 

She nearly flinched at how quickly Carter looked up, surprise lifting his brows abnormally high. “What? I’m faced with her doe-eyed exuberance for sometimes fourteen hours a day.”

Not about to let his mother off on such a flimsy technicality, Carter asked, “And what was your last assistant’s eye color?” 

Flicking her fingers dismissively, Cat rejoined, “Please. I don’t even remember my last assistant’s _name_. They’re usually never with me long enough for it to matter.” 

“Kara’s been with you six months.”

“Not a record.” 

“Long enough for you to know her eye color.” 

With a feigned long-suffering huff, Cat replied, “Which brings us full circle as to why you’re bringing up Kiera’s eye color.” 

“ _Kara’s_ eyes are blue, but while you were out on your balcony talking to Dad—”

Carter stuttered to a halt at the sight of his mother narrowing her eyes at his statement. “Why do you think I was talking to your father?”

“Because when you checked the number, you tried to stop it but you made the face you only make when you’re about to have an argument with him.” His voice grew softer. “And I know he’s been fighting you over how much he should have to pay for me.”

The flood of calming counter-emotions to her own rising fury was barely enough to keep Cat’s tears in check as she pulled her son into a hug. Holding him in silence for several moments, she allowed her bond to soothe and strengthen her in ways she sometimes cursed herself for allowing to become so important—so _necessary_ —to her. 

Steadying her voice as best as she could, she softly replied, “Your father loves you and would do anything for you, Carter. What’s going on right now between him and me doesn’t have anything to do with you at all, really. Sometimes, though, adults fail spectacularly at being straightforward and honest with each other.”

She swallowed back any further discourse on her ex’s pettiness and how, once again, she was the one fixing one of his more thoughtless emotional disappointments. 

“So he’s not mad because of me?” 

“No, sweetheart, he’s not mad at you at all. I promise.” She kissed the top of his head as she felt him shifting out of her reach. “He’s mad at me—and sometimes, when we’re angry enough, we can misdirect that anger onto people who don’t deserve it.” 

“Sometimes being an adult sounds worse than being a kid.” 

Cat hesitated at the comment before teasing, “Not when it means you can eat ice cream for dinner and no one can tell you no.”

Carter giggled at her reply as he rested his head against the couch cushion behind him. 

“So let’s get back to your fascinating study of my assistant’s eyes.” She nudged him playfully at how he ducked his head and blushed at Cat’s insinuation. “Please, continue to enthrall me with your observations.” 

“Mom,” he huffed, indicating he wanted her to at least pretend to take him seriously. When she pressed her lips together to stifle further laughter and gave him an exaggerated nod to continue, he couldn’t hold back his own chuckle at how easily his mother could slip into silliness with him. 

“Like I was saying, Kara’s eyes are blue, but while we were in the break room together, at one point, her eyes looked green. Like _green_ green—like yours.” 

Her earlier teasing slipped from mind as she processed Carter’s words. Trying to control the furrow she felt forming on her forehead, she stated, “It could have just been the way the light reflects off her glasses.”

Carter caught the odd, unconvincing tone in his mother’s voice. Understanding quickly clicked. “You’ve noticed it, too, haven’t you?”

Eyes narrowing at his question, she reiterated, “I have noticed how the light reflects off her glasses in a particular way sometimes and makes her eyes look something other than blue.”

Carter refused to even feign belief. “Mom, her eyes were green! It didn’t matter which way she turned her head or what reflected off her glasses—they were _green_.”

Cat felt her irritation spike. Surprisingly, she felt it spike even higher at the curious pull at her connection. 

“Carter.” Her son caught the flicker of warning in her voice. “I don’t have the slightest clue why my assistant’s eyes look like they change color—and quite frankly, it’s not at the top of my list of mysteries that deserve my attention.”

Carter eyed his mother with surprise. In all his eleven years, he had never heard his mother tell so blatant a lie to him. What kept him from being angry or hurt, however, was the fact that she seemed so unnerved by whatever reason she clearly already had in mind for her assistant’s eye color alteration. 

Something about Kara clearly set her off-kilter in a way he’d never before seen. He knew better than to push her when she was edging toward the level of defensiveness rising within her—a level he knew could lead her down an anxious path he preferred she avoid. With a nod, he put his tablet in sleep mode and set it down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

With a soft sigh and an internal rebuff against the curious emotional tug she felt once more through her bond, Cat reached out and pulled her son closer. “You didn’t upset me, darling. I’m just more tired than I thought. It was a long day.” 

Content to let one more lie slip for now if it calmed his mother, Carter snuggled into her arms and they switched topics to his upcoming holiday break and trips they could take while he was off school. 

Later, once she’d tucked her son into bed and gotten herself ready for sleep, Cat settled down on the couch in front of the living room fireplace. Firelight flickered in her green-gold gaze as she stared into the flames, her thoughts once more straying toward their earlier conversation. 

One of the driving reasons she had always pursued stories as vehemently as she did as a reporter was her dedication to providing access to the truth, no matter what. Yet, that evening, she had purposefully lied to the one person in her life she had sworn to herself she would never deceive.

Cat abhorred lies.

But then there were _lies_. 

Lies like refusing to confirm she had noticed every time her assistant’s eye color would shift right as she felt an increase of emotion through her bond with her _bashert_.

Lies like denying how she would feel the steady double heartbeat within her own chest whenever she responded in-kind.

Lies like never questioning how quickly her assistant had learned her needs and set about to become the provider for each one. 

Lies like ignoring all the evidence she had been quietly collecting and cataloging regarding a truth she didn’t know how to explain let alone accept—a truth that terrified her in ways that just as deeply confused her.

Cat Grant abhorred lies—but she abhorred cowardice even more.

With a disgusted grunt, she shut down the gas fireplace and stalked off to bed. At the sight of the legal documents setting next to her bed, waiting for her review, she growled while shoving them out of sight in the top drawer of her nightstand. 

If only she hadn’t forgotten those damned papers. If only Carter wasn’t as observant as she was. If only Kara hadn’t still been there or hadn’t been so—so annoyingly _Kara_ around her son.

If only.

Several hours of sleepless tossing ended with the unwelcome tones of her alarm and the disquieting sensation of careful, questioning emotions coming through her bond. Unable to handle the curiosity and concern—or the thought of having to face their initiator and her insurmountable kindness and her inexcusable secrets—Cat pushed back with warning forcefulness.   

Not today. Not now.

By the time she made it into her office, she could feel the tendrils of her anxiety twisting through her thoughts, tightening around her muscles, constricting her breath. She also could feel her _bashert_ , hovering on the other side of their connection, careful not to overstep but exuding so much worry, it seeped through unintentionally. 

Shutting her eyes against the sensation, Cat focused on steadying her breathing and shifting her expression into one of impeccable _ennui_. As the elevator pinged its arrival to her floor, she rested a hand against the cock of her hip and waited for the doors to part. 

Her assistant hovered just outside, latte in hand and an inquisitive “Good morning, Ms. Grant” spilling from her lips. 

The CEO brushed past, ignoring the proffered coffee as well as the greeting, her gaze never once shifting to acknowledge her assistant. Instead, she marched into her office, dropping her bag and coat onto the nearest sofa as she made her way to her desk. 

Only as she began to sit in her chair did she finally hesitate, her gaze now locked on the tiny dish containing her Lexapro, next to a glass of water. Her expression still indecipherable, she did nothing to abate the fury she felt rising within her at Kara’s emboldened prescience.

“Ms. Grant, are you all right? Did—did I do something wrong?”

Even as she listened to the concern in her assistant’s voice, she could feel the soothing emotions coming through in perfect balance to her pique. Still, the thought flared in her mind, daring her to find the courage to confirm what she already knew she would see. 

_Just lift your head and look at her._

With a hard swallow, Cat shut her eyes, her head swaying from side to side in a half-hearted shake. “Please just go, Kara.” 

Uncertainty sparked at the sound of Cat both pronouncing her name correctly and making a request of her rather than a command. What disconcerted her even more was the swirl of confusion and fear she could feel rising within the CEO—and then the bond snapped shut, Cat willfully blocking her from sensing anything further. 

She couldn’t catch the gasp of surprise the action drew from her. She also couldn’t miss the way the sound caused Cat’s fists to clench atop her desk. 

_“Go.”_

The word ghosted across lips that trembled so slightly Kara barely caught the motion. A thousand words rushed to mind in rebuttal—a million feelings raced to the surface only to bounce back against the resolutely closed connection.

With a despondent though obedient sigh, Kara softly replied, “Yes, Ms. Grant,” before turning and walking back to her desk.

As Kara passed the threshold to the CEO’s office, Cat finally lifted her head. Lip curling in disgust at herself, she hissed “Coward” under her breath before rising and marching to her balcony to clear her head.

Only much later would she wonder at the noticeable way Kara flinched the moment she uttered her self-repudiation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think I was going to make this easy for these two, did you?


	11. Chapter 11

**_khahshchav_ **

Profanity, like slang, had always been a nuance of human language Kara struggled to use properly. Neither had been a part of Kryptonese—although she had heard her aunt come up with a few decidedly inventive insults that even a young Kara knew were unrepeatable. Many Earth languages, however, were rife with insults and cursing and idioms that always seemed to elude her. Alex was far more adept at wielding colorful language, while Kara was content with a stray “hell” or “damn” added for emphasis in the same way she’d throw in contractions to make her speech sound less formal—less alien. 

As she slogged home at the end of a day of dealing with a particularly feral Cat, however, she found herself developing a deeper appreciation for one of Alex’s favorite profane idioms about days that had “gone to shit.” That day most assuredly qualified as having gone to shit before Cat had even arrived. Her emotions from the moment she awoke had been erratic in a way that left Kara a quivering mess before the day had even reached its halfway mark.

Cat’s emotional equanimity had, in fact, become something of a crap shoot, to use another baffling idiom, ever since the morning after Kara had met Carter—and Cat had called her a coward.  

Kara flinched in pain at the memory of hearing Cat seethe the word beneath her breath before turning her back and marching off to her balcony. She had remained there for a good portion of that morning, blocked off from Kara both physically and emotionally, her lock-down on her side of their bond unnervingly stalwart.  

Ever since that morning, their emotional connection had become a dangerous uncertainty to Kara—sometimes chaining her to what she could only describe as emotional bludgeoning from the CEO, and sometimes locking her into spiteful silence. Sometimes, though, Cat would falter, letting slip some sliver of the version of their bond that had been forming before that still baffling watershed. Sometimes, Kara would get just enough of Cat’s kindness to tether her once more to the hope of fixing whatever had broken so spectacularly between them. 

With a dejected sigh, Kara entered her apartment, not even bothering to flip on any lights, and traded that day’s “wardrobe atrocity” for sweatpants and a hoodie. After she came back out into the living room and slumped down on the couch, she eyed her phone where she’d dropped it on the coffee table with frustrating indecision.  

She wanted to place an order for delivery, but the blue blink of a waiting message filled her with dread. She was fairly certain after a day where the nicest thing Cat had said to her was how her attempts at organization were almost as pointless as her incessant smiling, she couldn’t deal with any further vitriol, even in text or voicemail form. 

Instead, she curled into herself, pulling her sleeves down over her hands and finally allowing herself the much-needed release of tears she was never brave enough to allow, even in the most hidden reaches of CatCo (because “I do not abide crying in this office at any time, _Kiera_ ”).  

Kara knew Cat could be cutting and unkind to everyone at some point. However, to Kara, she had now unveiled a deeper cruelty that left her taxing even her own Kryptonian stamina just trying not to break beneath Cat’s scathing tempers. 

 _“Are you willing to sacrifice everything in your life to be my assistant?”_  

It was only now that Kara realized the greatest sacrifices she was making were her self-confidence and self-respect—both of which Cat had made conscious effort to diminish as often as possible. It seemed all she could do was wrong in the CEO’s eyes—from what she brought Cat for lunch to what she chose to wear to the office—and the effort to withstand was finally taking its toll. 

The sound of her apartment door opening quickly drew an end to what she had hoped would be a private pity party that evening. 

“You didn’t answer my text, so I just got our regular pizzas. I’d ask if that was okay, but we both know there hasn’t been a pizza made yet that a Kryptonian would refuse.” 

Alex froze in bewilderment at the sound of a sniffle in response to her teasing. It was then she realized how dark the apartment still was, even though Kara should have gotten home from work an hour ago. She carefully nudged the door shut behind her and set down the pizza boxes. Kicking off her shoes, she moved across the dining area toward where she could see her sister silhouetted against the windows behind her. 

Clicking on the nearest floor lamp, she made her way to the couch, settling in opposite Kara. Even with her sister’s clearly hasty attempt to dry her face, Alex could still see the traces of tear tracks on her cheeks. “Hey, what’s up?” 

Kara waved her hands vaguely before resettling them in her lap. “I—it was just a really long day. And I didn’t get a chance to eat as much as I normally do. I-I’m just hypoglycemic—or whatever the Kryptonian equivalent is. Nothing a little food won’t fix.” 

With a shake of her head, Alex studied her sister with greater attention. It was then she noticed the dullness in Kara’s gaze and the tightness around her eyes—not to mention the practically boneless slump of her body as if she were melting into the couch. 

“Kara, you look exhausted. Kryptonians don’t get exhausted—at least not by normal human tasks like running errands and replying to emails.” She nudged her sister’s leg with a socked foot. “Talk to me, _i_ _e te._ Is this about Cat?” 

All Kara could manage in response was a sullen nod, her eyes already filling to overflowing with emotion. Once the tears started again, she found she couldn’t stop the steady stream.

The brunette startled at the quickness of her sister’s tears, although she wasn’t completely surprised by them. No matter how hard Kara tried, she had never been good at keeping secrets, especially from Alex. She had noticed for a while a growing misery within her sister that pained her to ignore, even as she had tried to respect Kara’s clear desire to avoid talking about whatever was upsetting her. In that moment, however, Alex realized the situation was clearly so much worse than she had previously assumed.  

“She’s so _mean_.” Kara’s fingers tore the embroidery from the pillow she had suddenly clutched in her lap. “She criticizes everything about me—even things I didn’t know people _ever_ criticized. And that’s just when she’s saying her insults out loud.” 

Catching the curious hitch of Alex’s eyebrows, she redirected her gaze toward her lap and hiccupped, “Sh-she’s been using our bond to be even nastier.” 

Finally speaking truth to Cat’s behavior released more tears, which she futilely tried to swipe away. The wear on her psyche, however, from having kept all this inside had finally reached its breaching point.  

“It’s okay, Kara.” Scooching close, Alex hugged her sister as tightly as she could. Hurt coiled around her heart at the feeling of Kara trembling in her arms, her sobs pouring out of her in between desperate gulps for air. 

It took several minutes before Kara could regain control over emotions far too long suppressed within her. However, she gained no relief from her momentary emotional break. The sensation of Cat’s side of their bond remaining adamantly blocked instead left her feeling hollow and rejected. 

Seeing the cloudiness still in her sister’s normally clear eyes, Alex asked, “How long has this been going on?”  

The blonde shrugged listlessly but softly whispered, “Almost four months.”  

Alex stiffened with anger at the thought of her sister absorbing so much hurt for so long in silence. “Oh my god, Kara, why haven’t you said anything?” 

Before Kara could regroup to answer, Alex’s eyes grew wider, her thoughts coalescing into a disturbing revelation. “She knows.” 

Kara’s expression instantly crumpled into one of pure desolation. She quickly covered her face with her hands but she couldn’t hide the sounds of suffering that cut her almost as deeply as the wounds left by a lost world.  

Her _khahshchav_ knew—and was punishing her for not being brave enough to tell her the truth.  

Even as Alex wrapped herself tightly around her sister’s still-shaking frame, Kara couldn’t find solace. Struggling to speak through her tears, she choked out, “She hates me, Alex—and she’s right to! I-I don’t deserve this blessing from Rao.” 

Pressing her cheek against the top of her sister’s head, Alex replied, “You don’t deserve this punishment, Kara. You’ve done nothing wrong!” 

Kara’s words, feather soft but heavy with more guilt than Alex had ever heard from her sister, barely reached Alex’s hearing. “I left her alone. And now—now she’s just so angry and _hard._ I made her that way.”

Alex softly ran her fingers through her sister’s hair. “We’ve been over this, Kara. You cannot keep blaming yourself like this. You had no control over what happened to your pod. And don’t think for one minute I don’t know how badly that time hurt you as well.” 

Despite herself, Alex shivered at the thought. She’d witnessed more than enough of Kara’s nightmares and her own panic attacks when the memories of Krypton’s destruction or the bleak starkness of  _vrrosh_ _:_ _dokhahsh_  refused to release her.  

She watched as Kara shifted to sit back up. With a gentle smile, she swiped away a tear threatening to drip from her sister’s chin. Kara offered a watery smile in return, which quickly fell once more into a broken frown. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“For not telling you what was happening with Cat—for not telling you Cat had figured out.” She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “For being a big mess you have to clean up yet again.”  

“Hey.” Kara looked up instantly at the feel of Alex reaching out and gripping her hand. “You are _not_ a mess, Kara. You’re my sister, and I’m here for you, no matter what.” 

The brunette waited until Kara finally offered a slight nod. In a soft voice, she queried, “So, what happened, _i_ _e_ _te_?” 

With a soft snuffle, Kara burrowed into her sister’s side, resting her head against Alex’s shoulder. “You were right. I shouldn’t have gone to work for her. I let myself get too close, too fast—I was careless and stupid.” 

As Alex threaded the fingers of her free hand through Kara’s hair, she sighed, “You’re not either of those things. You know that, right?”  

Without addressing the question, Kara pressed on. “I met her son. Carter.” Even in her sadness, she smiled softly at the memory of meeting the sweet, shy boy. “I thought everything went all right—but the next day...”

Her voice trailed into silence for a beat. “I’ve gone over that night a thousand times, trying to figure out what went wrong—what finally tipped her off.”  

Her bewildered sigh flitted across Alex’s collarbone. “I don’t know what I did wrong.” 

The pain of her sister’s confession weighed heavily in her heart as she hugged the blonde as closely as she could. “Maybe you didn’t do anything wrong that night, Kara. Maybe—maybe it was just a thousand little clues that finally clicked for her. Or maybe it was a moment of clarity that left her feeling vulnerable or confused or maybe even scared. But,” she softly finished, “whatever it was, maybe you should consider letting this bond between you go dormant.” 

Even as Kara bolted upright in protest, Alex held up a hand and continued, “You said yourself that sometimes the bond of _khahshchav_ revealed more differences than one or both parties might want to deal with, and so they let the bond go dormant. Kara, she’s going out of her way to make this connection miserable for you—I would definitely call that something you shouldn’t have to deal with.”   

The brunette cupped her sister’s face between her hands but let her continue to avoid making eye contact. “It won’t be a complete end to your connection. It will just be a break—a chance for you to catch your breath and for Cat to work through whatever shit she’s going through right now without taking it out on you emotionally while she does.” 

Pressing a kiss against Kara’s forehead, she finished, “I know you feel guilty, _i_ _e te_ , but please don’t let Cat keep hurting you like this as some sort of penance you think you owe. You need to shut down your connection with her, for your own preservation. Maybe you could even let Kal-El take you back to the fortress to see what he might have in his records on controlling a _khahshchav_ bond.”  

Kara instantly pulled back, a despondent grimace twisting her expression.  

Alex frowned at the reaction and gripped her sister’s forearm to draw her attention. “You always make that face whenever anyone mentions the fortress.” 

“I hate it,” Kara whispered. “He wasn’t supposed to learn about Krypton from—from that crystal monstrosity or from an AI simulation of his father. The fortress was only supposed to be a backup for what _I_ was supposed to teach him.” 

“Kara—” 

Shaking her head vehemently, she growled, “He knows nothing _real_ of Krypton! He will never behold the true beauty of our home world—the shining spirals of Argo City’s skyline or the majesty of Rao rising over the Jewel Mountains. He knows nothing of our history, art, or culture beyond what he has read. He will never understand our language—its rhythms, its music. He thinks memorizing everything from the crystals makes him Kryptonian. All it does is makes him a human in love with the concept of being Kryptonian.” 

Tears once more freely streaming from her eyes, she tucked her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly. “My late arrival didn’t just hurt me—it robbed Kal-El of his true heritage and it wrecked Cat in ways I don’t know how to _begin_ to fix!”  

The brunette gripped her sister’s knees. Ever since Kara’s arrival, Alex had watched her bear the unrelenting burden of guilt for so much that had never been within her control. It broke Alex a little bit more each time she watched Kara punish herself, but she would be damned if she would ever sit by and let anyone else punish her sister—not even Cat Grant.  

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s not your job to fix Cat. Yes, your time trapped in _vrrosh_ _:_ _dokhahsh_ must have been terrifying for her to endure all those years. I honestly don’t want to imagine what she went through. And, yes, that had to have affected her deeply—maybe even so deep that she now chooses to be cruel rather than risk letting anyone close enough to hurt her again if they suddenly left. But that doesn’t make it fair to you—and you’re the only part of this equation I care about, Kara.” 

She watched her sister’s eyes grow stormy and dark.

“So what do I do? If I’m not supposed to fix Cat and I can’t be with her, what else is there?” 

“Let your bond go dormant, even if it’s just for a little while. Give yourself a break.” 

Kara swiped at her nose with her sleeve. “I-I can try.” 

Alex gave her a reassuring smile. “Good. And maybe, if you don’t want to go with Kal-El to the fortress, you can ask him to pull together a data crystal for you on _khahshchav_? It couldn’t hurt to understand it a little better, right?” 

At the hesitant nod she received in reply, Alex decided to press one more request—one she’d been wanting to broach with Kara for a while. “And once things settle a little more for you at work, maybe you might want to consider doing something for you? Something to get you out of your own head for a little while—or at the very least, get you out of your apartment for a few hours of fun that doesn’t involve greasy food and Netflix?” 

Kara quickly caught Alex’s train of thought and derailed it with a shake of her head. “Alex, no, I’m fine! I-I don’t have any time. Cat still lets me do things like help her review layouts, and sometimes they arrive at the end of the day, which means I have to be able to stay late without much notice, but I really don’t want to lose that because it’s literally the only time she’s not shredding me apart or—”  

She quickly clacked her mouth shut at the glare her babbling received from her sister. “ _Once things settle at work,_ ” Alex reinforced, “why don’t you just consider giving dating another try? I mean, you haven’t gone on an actual date since your junior year of college!” 

Kara crossed her arms in defiance. “It was a terrible date.” 

“You didn’t break anything on her.” 

With an aghast gasp, Kara blurted out, “ _That’s_ my litmus test for success?!” 

Alex laughed at her sister’s response, relieved to see a break in the darkness hanging over her. “Why don’t you just download a dating app and take a look? I’ll even help you set up a profile—we can make a sister night out of it!” 

“Alex—”  

“Please, Kara? Just give it a try? I don’t want you to stop being there for Cat—but I don’t want you to completely ignore your own needs or wants. You said yourself, you can’t be for her what you were supposed to be—and right now, she’s not even letting you be what you want to be for her. So be what you _can_ be, but also be forgiving to yourself. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t make it to Earth at the same time as Kal-El. Stop letting her treat you like it was and start getting out there and having more fun.” 

She could still see the uncertainty in Kara’s expression, but it was the sliver of acquiescence she chose to hold onto instead. Wrapping her in another of her most encompassing hugs, she rested her cheek against her sister’s and whispered, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what you went through to get here, Kara, but I’m so glad you arrived when you did.” 

Alex felt the soft hitch of her sister’s breath and held her even more tightly, knowing how much Kara craved physical comfort. When she finally released her hold after several minutes, she smiled and wiped away the new tears on Kara’s cheeks. “So pick an app and we’ll see what kind of a mess we can make of a profile for you. I want you to get at least one date out of this before my trip to Geneva.” 

“Alex, that’s—you leave in a week!” 

“Better engage some of that super speed then, _i_ _e te_.” She bumped shoulders with her sister before rising from the couch to get the previously discarded pizzas. “Because I don’t want to spend another Thanksgiving listening to Mom rip _me_ apart because _you’re_ not dating.” 

“Wait— _I’m_ going to go on a date to keep Eliza off _your_ back?” 

“You got it, goober. So practice your selfie game and get ready to swipe right at least once between now and Turkey Day. ‘Operation: Alex Needs a Nag-Free Thanksgiving’ is now under way.”  

Kara snorted dismissively even as she made grabby hand motions toward the pizzas Alex set down on the coffee table. “That’s a horrible operation name. Never become a secret agent—they’d laugh you right out of their organization with names like that.”  

Alex’s gaze sparked with a curious glimmer as she flopped down onto the couch beside Kara. However, she quickly shifted into a mischievous smirk right before lunging toward her sister with arms stretched wide. Kara laughed happily and tumbled backward as she moved with her sister’s playful rhythm.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't want to kick off their weekend with a little Kryptonian angst and guilt? Right? Poor Kara, literally bearing a world's worth of guilt and no idea why Cat's being so unreasonable. See, this is why communication is so key to healthy relationships!
> 
> I promise we're going to see a change for the lighter in the next chapter--with maybe a stumble backward...because that's how these things go sometimes. But there will be fluff before the next wave of angst, I promise!
> 
> Oh, and don't be too angry with Alex for encouraging Kara to shut down the bond and give dating a try. She loves her sister and is just trying to do what's best for her. She's going to have some epiphanies of her own soon enough...
> 
> /tease


	12. Chapter 12

_**bashert** _

“A visit from National City’s Hero and not a rogue villain or random calamity in sight?”

Cat smirked at the way the hero eyed her curiously in response to her teasing. “Tonight must be my lucky night.”

Supergirl drew herself up, observing Cat from a careful yet comfortable distance. As Cat watched her, suspended against the fading Monet pastels of sunset, she admired once more how thoroughly the stammering and fidgeting of her assistant’s daily disguise dropped away, revealing a mien the CEO could only describe as the hero’s “noble elegance.”

With the barest hint of a smile at the thought, Cat shifted her attention out over the skyline beyond the hovering hero and sipped at her tumbler of scotch. As she had learned to do during interactions with Kara while she was (beautifully) dressed in the uniform of her heroic persona, she left their bond open but steadied her own emotions to a muted presence—her unspoken penance and surrender to the hero’s needs.

Even weeks later, she could still recall with perfect, petrifying clarity the emotional “explosion” that had blasted to rubble her blockade on their bond and flooded her with a fright so intense, it had left her doubled over and gasping for air. The only rational thought of her own she could conjure in that moment had been thankfulness that Carter was with his father and not witnessing what she could only categorize later as the start of one of the worst panic attacks she’d ever experienced.

As she had forced herself to regain even a tenuous control over their connection, she felt a rush of determination and frustration tangling around the terror. And then she’d felt a sensation she hadn’t felt in years: the stomach-flipping free fall feeling her _bashert_ used to love but that now seemed to fill her with unexpected urgency.

Far below Cat’s penthouse, the wail of sirens blended with the emotional klaxons echoing inside her head. Dredging up enough focus to reach for the television remote, she quickly clicked on CCN. The screen filled with footage clearly being shot from one of her station choppers, of an airplane streaking flames across the night sky.

“Again, we are reporting live on the situation currently happening over National City. We have on-the-scene coverage and amateur video and photos coming in, showing what appear to be explosions in two of the engines of National City Airlines Flight 237. The airplane had begun to lose altitude after it lost its first engine, but has somehow stabilized, even with the second engine explosion moments ago. Airport officials are not responding...”

Attention on the newscaster’s words faded the moment she understood undoubtedly what the “somehow” was.

Her assistant.

Her _bashert_.

“Kara.”

The name fell from her lips on a reverent sigh.

She squinted at the image filling her television, barely making out the form of a body pressing against the bottom of the plane. As she watched, she let Kara’s emotions fill the link between them—let her use Cat as the vessel for all her overwhelming, overflowing flood of feelings.

As Cat accepted the deluge, she forced herself into the state of focus she had once been proficient at rallying in response to the long-ago frightening uncertainty of their bond. Almost instantly, she began to send back the calming exercises she knew would help bring Kara back under control. She also let slip the pride she felt at the sight of Kara’s heroics, hoping to help her stay focused on the task of bringing down the plane Cat understood only remained aloft because of her.

Watching the scene unfurl on the news helped her match every emotion she felt through their bond with what was happening: Kara’s elation and surprise as she continued to guide the plane through the air, her stress and exasperation as she realized she couldn’t lift the plane up again quickly enough and would have to tilt it just right through the suspension towers of the approaching Otto Binder Bridge.

Cat was unable to hold back her own snort of laughter at Kara’s chagrin as she watched the plane’s wing gouge the asphalt beneath it.

“That bridge has needed re-decking for years anyway,” she sighed as she attempted to disarm the other woman’s embarrassment.

When the plane finally splashed down into the water, Cat gulped in air at the sight of the other woman disappearing beneath the churning waters, feeling her momentary disorientation. When Kara had struggled to the plane’s wing and looked back toward the faces pressed against the windows watching her, Cat felt the unmistakable wash of love and relief pass through their bond.

As Kara took off from the plane and the prying spotlights of the media and police choppers, Cat watched her ascent with open wonder, finally fully understanding the sensation she’d felt—and loved—all those years.

Worry, however, had quickly taken over as Cat began to think beyond the well-deserved giddiness she could feel flowing from Kara. Not wanting to completely crush the feeling but also suddenly desperate to protect Kara from discovery, she allowed some of her cautious reserve through their bond. After several more minutes of experiencing Kara’s in-flight emotions, Cat felt a settling followed by more of her flood of what Cat could only describe as the purest shot of happiness she’d ever felt.

It had been in that moment, Cat realized how much she had missed not just Kara’s happiness, but Kara herself. Shame at how she had so unfairly—so cruelly—punished Kara because of her own fear and frustration began to overwhelm her and threaten to take control of their connection.

However, just as quickly, she felt Kara push back with the unmistakable joy she exuded like light and warmth from the sun. Even after all the months of absorbing Cat’s worst (and Cat once more felt her shame spike at how she had taken “worst” to a new low, even for her), all Kara had for her in that moment was the purest of elation at being welcomed once more.

Swiping at the tears she suddenly realized were falling from her eyes, she settled back on her couch and simply fell silent—not shutting herself off as she had been but instead opening herself completely and letting Kara take over their bond. What she felt for the better part of an hour was a beautiful mélange of the most excited, happiest feelings, all wrapped in a sense of pride and love that Cat couldn’t quite understand—but she knew that whoever that love was for, it was what had driven Kara to do what she had done that evening.

It was only when she felt the giddiness begin to dim into a mix of hurt and uncertainty that Cat once more began to interact emotionally. Whatever Kara was experiencing in that moment was unsettling and upsetting her in ways Cat found completely unacceptable. In fact, her first inclination had been to jump in her car and go to Kara—to see for herself what was so upsetting, put a stop to it, and give Kara whatever comfort she needed.

Her more logical side had kept her from following through on that particular path. However, she did make certain Kara felt once more how proud Cat was of what she had done that night.

They had fallen asleep connected through their bond, Cat soothing and praising Kara as much as she could until she finally felt the adrenaline and anxiety release her to Morpheus’s embrace. Cat followed soon enough after—but not before laying out a game plan for the next morning at the office.

Always an early riser, the CEO was up and off to work well before Kara had even awoken. Making sure to keep her side of their bond as muted as possible—though no longer blocked—Cat had made quite a bit of headway into her tasks by the time Kara had arrived.

Cat instantly felt Kara’s apprehension upon her arrival and understood its implication. She had shown abysmal judgment in the past few months regarding their bond. She knew she had lost the right to expect Kara’s trust and had more than earned her fear. What was more, Cat could feel the worry growing within Kara concerning Cat’s reaction to what they had experienced emotionally together the previous evening—and what it would mean to their relationship in the office.

Letting her own emotions lie mute, she instead let Kara once more own the bond while calmly waiting for her to approach.

“M-Ms. Grant?”

With great trepidation, Kara shuffled into the CEO’s office, latte clenched nervously in one hand and tablet in the other.

“Exciting news day, Kiera. All hands on deck, up and at ‘em, and all those other insipid colloquialisms you know I hate to see in any of my publications.”

Though the CEO continued to mangle Kara’s name and her tone never fluctuated from its usual icy sharpness, she could tell from Kara’s relaxing posture and soft smile that she was sensing Cat’s pleased emotional state.

“Oh, of course, Ms. Grant. Should I alert the division heads that you want a special meeting this morning?”

Before Cat could respond, Kara turned at the sound of staff hurriedly entering the CEO’s office. When she returned her attention to Cat, she couldn’t help but laugh at how the CEO had arched one of her eyebrows to accentuate the obvious answer to her question.

With a waggle of her fingers indicating she wanted Kara to proffer up her latte, Cat replied, “I’d like you to stay and take notes.”

Kara’s vigorous nodding made the muscles in Cat’s neck ache from the motion. She sipped from her latte, pleased by the perfect temperature, and queried out loud to her gathering directors, “So, you’ve had all night while your staff provided adequate enough coverage and commentary: What are your thoughts on our mystery flying—whatever she is? Alien? Metahuman?”

At the rush of fear she felt bubbling through their connection, Cat carefully set her expression and settled her emotions into a reflection of her genuine curiosity.

“There’s no way to answer what she might be with what we learned last night. We need more information.”

With a tilt of her head, Cat turned toward her new art director and stated, “Thank you, Mr. Olsen, for pointing out the obvious so eloquently.”

Even through the sarcasm, Kara clearly detected the CEO’s playfulness. “Pity there’s not a superhero hotline we can call to arrange an interview.”

Kara inhaled sharply at the sentiment. Realizing her response had drawn Cat’s curiosity, she blushed. “D-do you think that’s what she is? A superhero?”

“Well, I’m sure the environmentalists and the fish in National City Bay would disagree, what with the plane she saved still bobbing around in the water.”

She pressed her lips together at the sight of Kara’s blush deepening. “But, yes, I think what she did last night was incredibly heroic—and every person on that plane should think the same thing.”

The CEO puzzled at the fluctuation of sadness to spike through their bond.

“I think that’s how we draw her attention.”

“What?” Kara’s emotions flipped so quickly, Cat could barely catch her own smile at the way she blurted out the word in front of everyone.

“Our first batch of articles on our new hero. We highlight the gratitude of as many of the passengers and crew as we can.”

The CEO kept to herself the part about trying to deduce who on the plane had drawn out her _bashert’s_ heroic side.

“In fact, we focus on as many of the positive effects of her act as possible: the people she saved, the damage she prevented, even the financial and business implications of her save on the city, our airport, and our airline industry. We don’t ignore the things like the damage to Binder Bridge or the plane unfortunately polluting our water at the moment, of course, but we let her know in no uncertain terms how grateful we are for what she did.”

James shifted forward slightly, a smile already lighting his features. “I bet I could also get Superman’s thoughts on—”

Cat raised a silencing hand, mostly in response to the panic she felt from Kara at the mention of the Man of Steel. “Already trying to figure out how to shove her into the shadow of a man, Mr. Olsen?”

The art director stumbled back slightly, surprised by the vehement undertow of Cat’s question. “I just—I thought—”

“You thought incorrectly,” she dismissed, silently satisfied at his instant hangdog pout. “We are not going to put her in anyone’s shadow. We are going to let her own her power. Metropolis and the _Daily Planet_ can keep their superlative man. She is National City’s and _mine_.”

The territorial growl in Cat’s voice on the final word shivered through her assistant in an enjoyably visible way.

“As such, I’m going to make sure she has every opportunity to be the narrator of her own story. CatCo will do everything in our power to show her our appreciation.”

With that, she flicked her wrist in annoyance toward her staff. “No one should be standing still right now.”

At the spark to finally set people in motion, she called out, “I want article outlines in thirty minutes and first drafts by ten.”

As she watched Kara scurry along the edge of the group back toward her desk, the CEO called out, “Kiera, wait.”

Jolting hesitantly, she slipped out of the flow of staff exiting the office and returned to stand before the CEO.

Without fanfare, Cat declared, “I want you to be first to review everything submitted on our new hero.”

“Me? Really?”

Ignoring the mix of uncertainty and excitement she could feel, Cat rolled her eyes in a faked fit of annoyance. “You’re already unofficially performing this task for everything my bumbling division heads submit anyway. Also, I want the opinion of someone other than me for establishing messaging and tone for our mystery hero.”

At the instant burst of curiosity, she elaborated, “I mean, I know how _I_ would like the media to present me to the public if I were her. However, I also acknowledge I can be a bit _extra_.”

She shot a chastising glare toward Kara at her barely hidden snicker. “I don’t think that would appeal to her, though. I don’t think she did what she did for attention.”

“You don’t?”

The CEO shook her head. “No. This wasn’t planned. This was impulsive. Something drew her out—something special about the plane.”

She thoughtfully slid her upper teeth along her bottom lip for a moment. “ _Someone_ special.”

Even without paying much attention to the emotions lingering through their bond, Cat could see the way her observation unsettled Kara. She decided to let her assistant relax by pressing onward. “Whoever or whatever the reason, I don’t think she intended to reveal herself last night—perhaps she never intended to reveal her abilities ever. Right now, I’m sure she’s at quite an impasse: Continue on this unexpected journey or return to the shadows.”

“W-what do you think she should do?”

“I think she should follow her heart, of course. She’s a hero, no doubt, whether she does only this one incredible thing, or she continues to share her extraordinary abilities and does a million incredible things.”

She locked Kara in her sights with a gaze too certain, too powerful for the other woman to resist. “But I’m going to make sure she knows that, as long as she’s in my city, she’s safe and welcome, and will always be appreciated.”

She watched Kara swallow, blink several times to clear her eyes of the affected shine that had risen at Cat’s words and the open honesty of the emotions she was allowing Kara to feel.

Turning away before she, too, began to show the effects of the emotional exchange taking place, Cat walked back to her wingback chair with a dismissive wave. “Read what the division heads submit and let me know what you think.”

She turned and met gazes once more. “Be true to how you think we should present her to National City, Kara.”

Not missing the correct pronunciation of her name, Kara couldn’t fight down the way her lips curled into a beautiful grin. “Yes, Ms. Grant.”

Cat had hardly needed to provide any additional input to Kara’s comments, pleased at how precise and promising they were. Cat had assumed the assignment would be perfect for Kara because she was, in essence, shaping her own messaging. However, what Cat hadn’t anticipated was the glimpse of editorial acumen and journalistic resolve she saw in Kara’s mark-ups and comments.

At the end of the day, after seeing the publication of several _Tribune_ articles that sent their analytics numbers off the charts, Cat settled onto her office balcony’s couch and sipped at a healthy pour of her favorite scotch. Beside her sat a stack of suggestions and rough layouts for in-depth follow-ups and photo spreads for the monthly publication. In her lap rested a notepad on which she had begun to outline questions she would want to ask their new hero for an official interview.

Before she had realized she was doing it, she tugged at the connection she shared with Kara, instantly drawing her attention. With silent but swift strides, she appeared before the CEO, nervously adjusting her glasses.

“Do you need anything, Ms. Grant?”

Cat frowned slightly at her unconscious carelessness, but made certain to keep her emotions on an even keel. “You did excellent work today. You should go and do whatever it is you do to celebrate.” The corners of her mouth twitching slightly in betrayal, she added, “I assume it will include some horrifyingly decadent dessert—in a bowl, no doubt.”

The responding smile was resplendent though noticeably subdued along the edges. “Thank you, Ms. Grant. I think I will leave now.” As she turned to go back inside, she glanced over her shoulder and added, “Although I’m much more a chocolate cookie dough waffle cone kind of girl,” before striding once more indoors.

Sniffing in amusement, Cat took a slow sip of her drink and stared out across the expanse of skyline before her. She loved National City—loved its rhythms, its flow, its brilliance, its possibility. She had shed Metropolis’s gray cloak long ago and had regretted the decision only a handful of times, when the struggle to continue had seemed momentarily too daunting. Never once, however, had she regretted where she had relocated. Metropolis would have been nothing but living in shadows. National City was free and clear to let Cat shine at her brightest and best—and now she was poised to let her _bashert_ do the same.

As she drank and watched the final vestiges of sunlight slip from sight, she noted the feeling she now knew was Kara taking flight. Her brow furrowed in curiosity and confusion. Moments later, however, she understood.

“You know, you don’t have to hide from me. After all, I owe you a great deal for the ratings bumps you’ve brought to all my publications and broadcasts.”

She saw the trace of Kara’s silhouette shift further into the shadow of CatCo Tower—felt the uncertainty snake through their bond and twist her into its hold.

“Or you can stay right where you are. It’s not like I can come get you while you’re there.”

She felt the ping of amusement at her comment.

Sipping and sitting a bit longer in comfortable silence, Cat finally whispered, “Thank you for what you did.” She turned to look at where she suspected Kara was watching her. “There are hundreds of families and friends tonight who are celebrating instead of mourning because of you.”

The earlier spike of sadness Cat had felt the first time she had mentioned the gratitude owed her by those she’d saved tumbled through her once again. Without a word, the figure in the shadows drifted further away before Cat felt the sensation of her flying off, the pain of a confusing sorrow strong through their bond.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that Cat found herself the focus of secret scrutiny once more. In the office, she and Kara had engineered a comfortable if not perplexing truce. Contrary to Cat’s usual penchant for taking charge, she had submitted to Kara’s control of their connection and her clear decision to keep both their bond and her increasing heroic presence throughout the city unacknowledged in any official capacity.

Regardless of her own opinion on the decision, Cat honored the silent desires of her _bashert_. She still understood she had deeply damaged their bond and owed Kara the right to whatever time she needed to regain her trust in the CEO.

To Cat’s surprise, that time came for them not from Kara Danvers but instead from the hero the Queen of All Media had dubbed Supergirl.

Once more relaxing on her office balcony, drink in hand, Cat felt her _bashert’s_ arrival seconds before hearing the sharp snap of her cape in the wind. She huffed at the way the hero once again settled into CatCo Tower’s shadow.

“Excellent save this afternoon. And congratulations: I can tell you’re getting more comfortable with all the news choppers hovering nearby while you do your superhero thing. The increased confidence looks quite good on you.”

The praise and gentle teasing, to Cat’s surprise, slowly lured the hero from her hiding. As Kara floated closer to the balcony ledge, Cat was unable to stop her frown at the sight of the hero’s chosen uniform.

Tipping the tumbler toward her, Cat sighed, “All my work to keep you out of _his_ shadow, ruined in one tacky technicolor swoop.”

She caught the mischievous twinkle and the slow lift of one side of Kara’s lips. “It seemed appropriate to keep it in the family, so to speak.”

The CEO gasped softly, the tumbler of scotch nearly slipping from her hold at the sound of the hero’s response. Refusing to show any further signs of surprise, Cat settled back against the couch cushion with a roguish grin. “Does this mean you’re finally going to grace me with an official interview? Not that you care, but _CatCo_ magazine’s monthly deadline _is_ in two days.”

Contrary to her best efforts, she reacted once more to the soft, acquiescent reply: “I suppose so.”

Fingers instantly twitched at the statement—her only visible sign of the excitement she knew Kara could feel flaring within her. “Are you certain? Don’t tease me, Supergirl.”

The hero’s cheeks flushed in a familiar way, but she remained steadfast in her position and expression. “National City’s citizens deserve to know who is protecting them now.”

Cat noted the deeper pitch and more methodical cadence of Kara’s voice. Present, too, was a highborn musicality that twirled and fluttered beneath the rhythm of her words.

With a careful swallow, she set down her tumbler and picked up her phone, making eye contact the moment she felt the nervous slip through their bond. “Is it okay if I record our conversation? You can tell me at any point if you want something off the record. I promise I will respect whatever you request.”

Hearing Cat’s words seemed to provide just the right amount of assurance. Steadying herself in place just beyond the balcony’s edge, the hero nodded and replied, “I wonder, do you make such offers to all your interviewees?”

“All the ones from outer space, yes.”

She smirked at Kara’s rejoining laugh as she started recording. “So, let’s get the basics confirmed. You’ve chosen to wear the same ‘S’ as Superman and a moment ago, you stated you were ‘keeping it in the family’ with your uniform choice. You’re—related to him?”

The CEO frowned at her hesitation. Mention of Krypton, however, felt somehow too invasive—too insensitive right at the beginning of their interview. It also stirred a dark understanding deep in her gut that she didn’t feel quite prepared enough to accept just yet.

“First, please allow me to correct you on a common mistake.” The hero raised her fingers to trace along the top edge of the sigil on her chest. “This is not an ‘S.’ It is the crest of the House of El, to which both Superman and I belong— _belonged_.”

Her gaze unfocused at her own correction, her lips drawing down into a pensive frown. “He and I are cousins—but that is the only information I confirmed I would share about him.”

“How?”

Lips quirking impishly, she replied, “My cousin and I do know how to do things like text, Ms. Grant.”

The huff Cat released helped relax her slightly. “Glad to see cheekiness is not exclusive to Earth’s citizens.”

Eyes sparkling, Kara corrected her response. “Our fathers were brothers—that is our family bond.”

“I have to admit, I don’t quite understand how you two are related since you’re younger than he is, and...”

Cat’s words faded into silence at the somber shake of the hero’s head. “What is your Earth expression? Looks can be deceiving?” Though the words came across playfully, Cat felt herself momentarily overwhelmed by Kara’s distress.

Although terrified of what she would hear, Cat pursued the truth she already knew but still struggled to understand and accept. “You’re not younger?” At another shake of the hero’s head, Cat pressed, “What happened?”

Kara’s gaze grew dark, her emotions spinning in dizzying whirls Cat instantly recognized, instantly wanted to soothe just as she always had. “Space is vast and wondrous, Ms. Grant, but it’s also dangerous and terrible. Sometimes it’s painful and cruel, and sometimes it makes sorrow your only companion.”

Not able to bear the silence, she whispered, “At the same time we are getting used to so many leaving, we are hanging on with a grip to the ones left.”

She caught the curious, plaintive glimmer in Cat’s eyes and smiled a bit self-consciously. “I spent a lot time reading about loss and grief when I first arrived. My foster parents worried a lot, but my—”

She paused, the words sticking to the roof of her mouth for a beat. “My sister understood it was helping me cope.”

Sister.

The word felt beautiful and weighted and precious.

“You came out for her.”

Tears blurred the hero’s gaze. “I have lost so much.”

She stared openly at Cat, the raw ache within her spilling through their connection. “Even when I didn’t realize I had anything else left to lose, the universe saw fit to remind me.”

As her cheeks began to glisten with silver rills of sorrow, she finished, “I couldn’t bear to lose any more.”

Cat dropped her phone to the couch and rose, approaching the edge of her balcony with the steady care of approaching a frightened, wounded animal. Though the balcony’s wall stood between them, Kara floated close enough that Cat could reach out and gently wipe away her tears. With instinct no longer deniable, she coaxed the hero closer still, foreheads pressing together and eyes closing as they both relished the unexpected intimacy.

For several moments, Cat felt the warm whisper of foreign words against her skin, one word looping through the litany with enough frequency, she finally caught the memory of its cadence: _khahshchav_.

Body jolting slightly, the hero finally pulled back, her attention already honed on something distant but pressing. Cat understood without words and released her hold on Kara’s face with a smile to soothe the growing regret in the hero’s gaze. “It’s all right, Supergirl. Save the day.”

Nodding, the hero hesitated as she studied the CEO. “I trust you with my story, Ms. Grant.” Her eyes darted briefly away, attention pulled by whatever was apparently escalating. When she looked back, she smiled in a way that leveled Cat with its aching beauty before disappearing into the night.

Only the still-recording phone bore witness to Cat’s failure at holding back her tears.

Two days later, Cat shared with Kara what she knew was one of the best articles she had ever written. “Review this and give me your honest feedback, Kiera.”

When Kara came to find her on her balcony half an hour later, she returned the article wordlessly. Cat could see, even before Kara had relinquished the pages to her, there were no marks anywhere.

“Should I take your lack of comments as good or bad?”

Kara lifted her noticeably green gaze to Cat’s, her gratitude—and something Cat had felt before but feared trying to define—wrapping around them both. “It’s perfect.”

Swallowing down her usual flippancy in the face of a genuine compliment, Cat instead nodded and smiled, her pleasure warming their connection.

After publication, National City couldn’t get enough of their Girl of Steel. Just as Cat had hoped, the city embraced her with well-earned enthusiasm. And CatCo led the charge in Supergirl coverage, giving readers and viewers all the access they could to their resident Kryptonian.

Perhaps as a show of her gratitude, the hero had taken to passing by the CEO’s office balcony in the evenings. Cat had learned quickly the emotions that signaled the hero’s wish to pause in her travels to say hello, and always made sure she just happened to be sitting outside upon her arrival.

On that particular evening, however, Cat could sense something _more_ in Kara’s wish to see her—a curious sensation she didn’t dare describe as longing, but definitely ascribed a sense of urgency the CEO would never refuse calming.

“I was just taking a final patrol of the city.”

“The alien version of ‘Just in the neighborhood and thought I’d say hi’?” The amused grin her question brought to the hero’s face this time earned her own full smile.

Sensing hesitation at the usual point in their brief evening encounters when Kara would be preparing to leave, she patted the cushion beside her. “You know, among humans, it’s customary to sit for friendly chats.”

She watched with curiosity as Supergirl stared at the space she’d indicated for the hero before finally teasing, “Even if I _did_ bite, which I neither confirm nor deny, it’s not like it would hurt you, Girl of Steel.”

The powerful pop of light in the hero’s eyes took both women by surprise. With several rapid blinks, Supergirl floated slightly away from the balcony, worry carving its presence in a deep, familiar crinkle between her eyebrows.

Sensing the hero’s continued indecision, Cat shifted her approach. Once more checking that her own emotions were calm and subdued, she rejoined in a more casual tone, “Or you can stay there. As my guest, I want you to be comfortable.”

She frowned at the jumble of conflicted feelings pouring through her mind. However, she watched with relief as the hero once more floated closer to the balcony. She remained on the outside, but Cat caught the moment her posture relaxed into a stationary hover. “How-how have you been?”

The CEO leaned back with a smile, stretching one arm along the top of the couch. She noted the way the hero watched her arm, lingering along the cushion she’d been invited to share. “Busy. All my publications are in overdrive at the moment, trying to stay ahead of _your_ story.”

Tipping her glass in a toast toward Supergirl, she chuckled at the way the hero nodded in return.

“It must be quite challenging to run a company as large as CatCo.”

“An exhilarating challenge,” she allowed. “Besides, I do have adequate help.”

Shifting her gaze to look out over the city, she casually confessed, “I have quite a few on my staff who pass as competent most days. I even have an assistant who continues to confound all the office pool odds.”

She pressed her lips together to suppress her amusement at how quickly (how _obviously_ ) the hero perked at her words. If, however, she caught the wry arch of the CEO’s brow, she pretended not to notice. “There are office pools about your assistant?”

The CEO hummed as she sipped from her tumbler. If it were any other circumstance or any other person—human or alien—she would have no time or patience for such an utterly obvious charade. However, for Kara, she was finally accepting she would make exceptions.

“Shocking though this might be to hear, I have somewhat high expectations, and I can be quite difficult when they aren’t met.”

She shot the hero a half-hearted eye roll at her teasing gasp. “I apparently have a reputation for being particularly brutal to my assistants. I believe the previous record holder barely lasted seven months. My current assistant has been with me almost a full year now and she shows no sign of battle fatigue. The office bet takers are positively _apoplectic_.”

The pleased shine reflecting in Supergirl’s eyes was captivating. “I’m sure she would find that highly amusing.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I suspect she might actually want to apologize for messing up their questionable pastime.”

By that point, the hero had floated closer, hovering beside the guardrail in a cross-legged position, her cape draped across her lap. Cat’s words drew a surprised snort from her that amused the CEO.

“To be honest, I don’t understand why _she_ hasn’t quit yet.”

Tipping back the remainder of her drink, Cat slid the glass onto the table and leaned back. She tucked her legs underneath her, catching the subtle shift of light in the hero’s gaze as she followed the movement.

“Do you want her to quit?”

Cat dismissed the question with flickering fingers, resisting the urge to respond to the worry and hurt she felt spiking through their bond. “I don’t _want_ any of them to quit—well, except for the one who called me out of a meeting with Valerie Plame because my mother decided to pay an unannounced visit. _That_ assistant was gone before you could say ‘nukuler.’”

At Supergirl’s confused pout, the CEO sighed. “Clearly before your time here on Earth.” She pursed her lips for a moment before continuing, “Or so I assume.”

The hero shifted, but to Cat’s surprise, she floated up and over the balcony railing. She continued to hover in the air rather than finally accept a seat, but Cat nodded in appreciation nonetheless. “I arrived on Earth the same year Plamegate occurred.”

Cat let her surprise show as she studied her visitor. “Sharing personal information with the Queen of All Media? That’s rather daring of you.”

“I told you what year I arrived. It’s not like you can Google me with just that.”

“Do you want me to _Google_ you, Supergirl?”

Cat imagined if it were physically possible for Kryptonians to spontaneously combust, she’d be happily toasting marshmallows over the hero’s cheeks at that moment. “I’m being too forward. I apologize.”

“I-it’s not—I mean—I-I—”

She bit her lip to stop her stuttering incoherence. Cat could see her fists clenched tightly in her lap.

“My son was born that year.”

The hero’s head whipped up at the strange shift in topic, but the smile that followed pleased Cat immensely. “He’s a very brave young man.”

Waggling her finger at the hero, Cat corrected, “He’s a very _impatient_ young man.”

She forced herself once again not to dwell on the terror she’d felt on learning how her son had been aboard Maxwell Lord’s nearly ill-fated high-speed train.

“He couldn’t even wait for his due date, which cost me a bet with Lois Lane she still won’t let me forget.”

Instead of laughter, Cat startled at the guilt rising within the hero’s color-shifting gaze. “Your son was born premature?”

Something in the hero’s tone worried her—but also warned her of some deeper meaning. Affecting her most casual tone, she flicked her hand as though waving away the words as she spoke them. “He was, but he was perfectly fine after a few weeks in the NICU.”

Supergirl appeared on the verge of tears as she processed Cat’s words, her emotions reeling outward in a tangle of self-rebuke the CEO found herself unwilling to allow. Without second thought, she rose from where she sat and crossed to the hovering hero’s side, immediately clasping her face in an insistent grip.

Struggling not to react to the sight of the hero’s revealing dark green gaze, she instead allowed Kara to fill their connection with whatever emotions she needed to, hoping they would give Cat some deeper insight into the intense response. The overwhelming surge of guilt was a painful force of clarity.

With gentle motions, she began to comb her fingers through the hero’s hair, relieved when Kara didn’t reject her efforts to soothe her. When she finally felt the riot of emotions dissipate, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the hero’s forehead. “Supergirl, Carter is fine—and his early birth led to an annual tradition that National City General greatly appreciates.”

Smiling at the curiosity sparkling in the hero’s once more unearthly blue eyes, Cat returned to her spot on the couch. She settled back and tried to ignore the rabbit-fast timpani of her own heartbeat. “Funny story now, I suppose. I punched an intern when he told me they couldn’t find my doctor.”

The hero snorted in disbelief, earning her a pointed glare from Cat. “What? I might not pack a Kryptonian punch, but I _can_ hold my own.”

She laughed softly at the way the hero barely hid her amusement. “We might need to find this intern for confirmation.”

“Angling for a reporter job, are we?”

Cat found the blush to diffuse through the hero’s cheeks unabashedly charming. “He’s still at NCG and more than willing to go on the record, I’m sure, since his department continues to reap the benefits of my momentary loss of control. We make an annual donation on Carter’s birthday, to the NICU my unintentional sparring partner now helps run.”

Kara smiled even though Cat could still feel the heavy burden of guilt tugging at their bond. “I’m glad Carter is okay.”

Always adept at hearing the unspoken words stitched between what Kara said, Cat drew a steadying breath. “Thank you for saving him.”

Cat hoped Kara had grown just as skilled at hearing what she left unspoken as well.

Nodding, the hero locked onto Cat’s gaze. “Be careful of Maxwell Lord. He—he noticed my _choice_ that evening and has already voiced his suspicions.”

Never one to miss an opportunity so attractive, Cat acknowledged, “It _was_ a revealing decision.”

The hero was unfazed by the comment. “You and Carter will always be my priority, Cat.”

She caught the spark of enjoyment from the CEO at the hero’s unexpected use of her first name. “I will always do whatever I can to keep you both safe.”

“Why?”

The hero merely smiled in response to Cat’s question even as the CEO could _feel_ the answer through their bond—that one emotion more precious than all others, still unspoken but also undeniable.

And then Kara was gone, flying off with a burst of speed that left Cat open-mouthed and stunned, her hair settling moments later from the gust left in the hero’s wake.

Weeks passed with both Cat and Kara growing more and more comfortable with the once again shifting boundaries and dynamics of their relationship. Whether as Kara or Supergirl, Cat could sense the hero’s growing confidence as well as her strengthening devotion to the CEO.

On one of the mid-summer evenings when Cat felt the emotions from Kara indicating she wanted to visit, the CEO glanced toward where her son sat on the balcony. Completely engrossed in whatever he was reading on his tablet, she approached him with a determination she didn’t quite fully feel.

Blue eyes finally shifted up, full smile following soon after. “You almost ready to go, Mom?”

The CEO smiled in return, her heart filled to capacity with love for her bright, beautiful boy. “Almost, darling. I just need to wrap up some editing—and then I have a quick check-in I think you might actually enjoy.”

Carter’s eyebrows drew together beneath the shadow of his most unruly curl. Before she could explain, however, her office phone interrupted. With an apologetic smile for her son, she hastened to answer.

Carter could tell, even before his mom returned, that something somewhere at CatCo had gone wrong enough to require her attention—as well as her obvious fury. He loved, however, how hard she always tried to keep her work-related issues separate from her interactions with him.

When she came back out onto the balcony, she couldn’t help but chuckle at how he already knew and understood she needed to leave for a while. Kissing his forehead, she stated, “I don’t plan on letting this take too long. Just keep hanging out here on the balcony, and I’ll be back as soon as I take care of this problem.”

The boy nodded, already understanding his mother’s censoring: Someone was getting fired.

Watching his mother until she disappeared out of her office, he settled back onto the couch and began scrolling through his tablet. After nearly ten minutes, he glanced up at a strange rustling sound just beyond the balcony edge.

“Supergirl!”

Tossing his tablet down onto the couch, he jogged to the balcony railing. As the hero floated low enough for him to make eye contact more easily if he wanted, he asked, “What are you doing here? Do you hang out with my mom?”

With a grin she made certain wasn’t nearly as unreserved as any she would give as Kara Danvers, she replied, “I do visit your mother on evenings when the city is quiet. I respect her counsel and enjoy her company.”

Gaze growing exponentially brighter with excitement, he leaned forward against the balcony as if trying to get closer to his hero. “That’s so cool!”

He paused, a faint pout tugging at his expression. “Sorry she’s not here now.”

Golden curls slipped over broad shoulders as the hero shook her head. “It’s all right. I’ve got you as my company this evening.”

Jaw dropping open in surprise, Carter barely managed to whisper, “Y-you want to stay here with me? Even though my mom’s not here?”

Deciding on action rather than words, Kara floated onto the balcony, setting down gently beside the now stunned boy. With a knowing smile, she turned and walked over to the couch.

Flipping her cape to one side, she sat down with a happy sigh and watched as Carter hurried back to his previous spot. As he sat down next to her, he couldn’t withhold the joyful laughter that bubbled up from deep within him. With her own charmed smile, she asked, “So, have you been staying safe since our last encounter?”

She watched at how quickly he blushed and dipped his head sheepishly. “Yeah—although Mom doesn’t let me out of her sight long enough to get in any kind of trouble at the moment. I’m amazed she didn’t make me go with her for whatever issue she’s dealing with right now—although I think it’s because she doesn’t want me to see her go all ‘Cat Grant’ on someone.”

The hero refrained from the knowing nod she nearly gave. She had felt the sharp pitch in ire as soon as it had occurred, drawing her toward CatCo like a rescue flare.

With a flick of his fingers Kara found too amusingly familiar, Carter sighed, “I have a feeling if you opened the balcony door, we would be able to hear her yelling from wherever she is in the building.”

He snorted softly at that point as he looked at his companion. “You don’t even need to open the door, though. I bet you can hear her right now.”

Kara tilted her head slightly to one side in acknowledgement, honing in on the sound of Cat’s voice.

 _“Your incompetence this time has not only cost my company financially, but it’s also costing me time away from my son right now. This isn’t the first time you’ve fucked up one of my evenings—but it is most assuredly the last. You’re_ fired _.”_

Flinching at the sharpness of Cat’s words and emotions, Kara closed her eyes and took in a deep breath as she sent out a flow of calm through their connection. After several moments of refusal, she finally felt the CEO capitulate to her gentle efforts to bring her fury back into a more controllable range. Lips curling upward slightly, she opened her eyes once more.

Before she could speak, however, Carter’s gasp startled her into silence. His eyes widened as he stared at first in confusion and then with a growing elation that admittedly confused the hero.

“It’s you!”

Kara felt her heart rate accelerate uncomfortably, even for her, as she took in the knowing stare of the increasingly excited boy. She realized too late her mistake even as she let her eyes slip shut once more.

She had known about the way her eyes shifted color for so long, it had become as accepted to her as her normal eye color—something she always knew but of which she wasn’t always _aware_.

Alex constantly warned her to be more careful—a truth she knew her sister would be more than eager to point out once she learned about this.

Uncertain of what she should say, she perched on the edge of the couch, muscles preparing her to flee.

“Please don’t go.”

With cautious but persistent movements, Carter reached out, his small hand gently holding her forearm. “Please, Kara—I swear I won’t tell anyone who you are. Just stay? Please?”

He could feel the tension thrumming through her body just with the light touch he held on her arm. It wasn’t until he felt her slouch back slightly that he finally released the breath he’d been holding.

As she settled once more onto the couch, Carter shifted so he could face the hero more fully. With a slightly troubled sigh, she dropped her hands into her lap. “You saw my eyes change color the night we met?”

Carter chuckled at the question, though it was full of understanding and comfort. “Yeah, when we were in the kitchen. They turn the same green as my mom’s eyes.”

He blushed. “It’s a pretty color for you, but I like your blue eyes better.”

The soft sincerity of his voice was the final bit of soothing Kara needed to release her from her fear. “Thank you, Carter.”

The boy shrugged, his blush slipping further down the spectrum of reds. “Is that a-a Kryptonian thing? Like, your eyes turn the same color as the eyes of whoever you’re thinking about?”

“Not quite,” she replied, lips quirking upward slightly. “But you’re very close.”

“Is it just for my mom?”

Nerves jittering like downed wires, she nodded once more. “It’s kind of hard to explain—”

“You’re her _bashert_.”

“—or not,” the hero huffed, somewhat surprised not only by how quickly Carter identified the bond between her and his mother but also how _at ease_ he seemed by it. Her brow furrowed slightly, however, as she puzzled over what he had said.

She had, of course, spent lots of time when she was younger, researching everything she could find on Earth beliefs in soulmates, the Jewish belief remaining one of her favorites. Carter’s knowledge of the term, however, took her by surprise.

“Where did you learn about _bashert_?”

Carter wriggled with excitement at Kara’s question. “Mom used to tell me lots of the same stories my grandpa used to tell her when she was little. He was Jewish—well, _technically_ Jewish since his mother was Jewish. Mom said he only practiced the religion when he was a boy, but he loved the culture and the history and the myths his whole life, and loved sharing them with her.”

He tilted his head as he studied the hero. “She told me how he was also the reason she pursued journalism and building her own company. He always encouraged her to ask good questions and never be afraid of the truth, and never stop believing in all the things she was afraid would make her seem silly.”

Kara frowned, understanding far too well who would have put such a fear in her heart.

“And she taught you about _bashert_?” When he nodded his reply, she pressed, “Does she—does she believe in it? That she has a soulmate?”

“Yeah, she does.” His tone turned noticeably sad. “But she doesn’t talk about it anymore. She had a huge fight with her mom a few years after she and my dad got divorced, and that’s when she stopped.”

Kara couldn’t help but notice how Carter didn’t refer to Katherine as his grandmother—not that she blamed him at all. “They fought about your mom’s belief in soulmates?”

“She was trying to push Mom into dating again. She told Mom she’d been selfish and stupid with my dad, and—and—”

The boy’s fingers began to curl inward, nails digging into his palms as he clenched his fists. Kara reached out and covered them with her own hands to steady him. When he looked up, she gave him a gentle smile. “It’s okay, Carter. We can talk about something else.”

With an adamant shake of his head, he breathed deeply, determined to continue. “She told Mom she ran my dad away by holding on to a-a childish delusion she’d wasted thousands of dollars trying to cure my mom of. And how could she even want it to be true, since it would be nothing but a punishment to whoever would have been doomed to be her soulmate.”

Carter flinched in surprise at the sight of Kara’s eyes beginning to shimmer with tears. “Oh, hey, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to make you cry! I-I’m sorry.”

With a sniffle and a quick swipe across her eyes, the hero shook off his apologies. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Carter.” Her chin wobbled slightly even as she smiled. “I promise.”

He watched her try to dry her face. When she spoke again, she blushed at the quavering still audible in her voice. “Your mom is one of the strongest, bravest people I have ever known. It’s—”

She hesitated, feeling her emotions beginning to rise enough that she knew she risked Cat sensing her distress if she slipped in her control.

Breathing deeply, she waited a moment to rein them back. “It’s an honor to be bonded to her.”

“Then why do you both pretend you don’t know who each other is?”

Her swallow was unnervingly loud, though she hardly heard it over the sound of her heart slamming rapidly in her chest. “We, um, well, we—it’s really complicated, Carter.”

He made no effort to hide his disbelieving smirk. “Only because adults like to make everything complicated.”

Kara couldn’t help but laugh at his observation.

“Mom once told me you disappeared from her life for a long time. She said she was afraid for a while that you weren’t real.”

The confession, even from Carter instead of Cat, still hurt Kara to hear. “I got a little lost on my journey to Earth.”

Her expression brightened slightly. “But your mom made sure I was never alone.”

“Are you upset she didn’t wait for you? That she married my dad and had me?”

Kara’s head shot up at his words, immediately wanting nothing more than to soothe the worry furrowing his brow. “Oh, Rao, no, Carter. I’m so happy you’re here.”

She reached out to cup his chin and gently encouraged him to meet her gaze. “You are so special and bright and wonderful—and so very important to both your mom and to me.”

She watched with a soothing smile and sparkling eyes as he blushed at her words.

“You know, I arrived on Earth the day you were born.” She pushed back the expectant remorse at what her arrival had done to Cat and Carter, instead focusing on the way his expression lit up at her words. “I even sensed you—before you were born.”

“How?”

“Your mom and I—what you call _bashert_ is something much deeper for Kryptonians. We share a connection through which soulmates can sense each other’s emotions. We can comfort each other or make the other feel calmer or stronger—we can be whatever emotional support the other person needs.”

“And you felt _me_?”

Kara nodded enthusiastically, her happiness bubbling upward in laughter at his excitement. “I didn’t understand for many years what I had felt, but I’m certain now it was you. Your emotions came through, kind of piggybacked on your mom’s emotions.”

“That’s so cool.”

The unexpected, almost petulant growl of the hero’s stomach completely drowned out her response. Carter couldn’t restrain his laughter.

With a playful pout, Kara rejoined, “Have some pity, buddy. I had a busy afternoon before I got here—and I can burn through more calories in one fight than Serena Williams goes through during a whole match.”

Still laughing, Carter jumped up and ran into his mom’s office. When he returned, he carried one of the bags of Brach’s assorted candies Kara knew Cat kept stuffed in almost every drawer of her desk. The hero eyed him nervously as he bounced down onto the cushion beside her. “Your mom’s not going to be mad if we eat that, is she?”

With an amused huff, the boy asked, “Are you seriously scared of my mom, _Supergirl_?”

His amusement broke into full-on laughter the moment Kara tickled him in response. When he finally squirmed away enough to avoid her reach, Kara playfully snagged the bag from his grip. She still hesitated to open it, however. “What’s the deal with these candy bags anyway? Why does she keep so many in her desk?”

The boy’s voice softened as though sharing the most precious of secrets with her. “These were my grandpa’s favorite—my mom told me he used to hide bags of them all around his office, so she’d always have a special treat whenever she sat with him. She said there were even still empty bags stuffed in his desk drawers when she brought all his things out of storage.”

He accepted the bag back from Kara with a sad smile. “I think she keeps lots of bags in her desk now as a way to remember him. She still misses him a lot, I know. I can hear it in her voice whenever she talks about him.”

His smile then shifted with pride. “She named me after him.”

Returning his smile, she asked, “Did you know him?”

“No. He died when my mom was young—only thirteen. He’d had pancreatic cancer for several years before he finally couldn’t fight it anymore.”

_“I wish our connection shared more than just feelings. I wish I knew what it was that was causing them so much sadness.”_

Sensing the shift in Kara’s mood, Carter rustled the bag in his grip to regain her attention. “I know she wouldn’t mind me sharing these with you.”

She nodded once as she finally stuck her hand in the bag and withdrew several wrapped candies. Quickly perusing her selection, she surprised Carter by returning one to the bag.

At the inquisitive stare she received, she shrugged. “Not really a fan.” She gestured vaguely toward her mouth. “It’s just irritating, the way it sticks around and takes forever to finally get rid of.”

Carter snorted with glee. “I can’t believe my mom just missed the scoop of the century. I can even see the _Trib_ ’s front page headline.” He swept his hand across the air between them and declared, “‘Supergirl Not Sweet on Caramel.’”

He laughed delightedly at the hero’s smirk. “You and my mom could make caramel plummet completely from public interest.”

Kara huffed at Carter’s teasing while unwrapping her candies, popping them into her mouth with an enthusiastically loud _crunch_.

What started as one bag soon turned into three bags devoured once Kara finally gave in to the truth of her caloric depletion. Carter happily fed her need, bringing bag after bag as she almost unconsciously blazed her way through them.

When Cat finally made her way back to her office, she froze at the sight of her son, nestled against the hero as she tore into another sweet treat, two sets of feet propped up on the coffee table before them and a ridiculous number of candy wrappers strewn around them. Realizing Kara probably hadn’t noticed her return because she was focused so intently on Carter, she eased close enough to hear their conversation.

“What’s your favorite power?”

“Flying. No doubt. It’s so—freeing.”

“Well, yeah. You don’t need a car and you’re never worried about being stuck somewhere Lyft can’t find you.”

Cat quickly pressed her hand over her mouth to hold back her laugh at the way Kara instantly tickled Carter until he practically squeaked with laughter.

“That’s not what I meant, goober.” She rolled her eyes at herself when she realized she’d called him what Alex always called her. “I mean, the sensation of flying—it’s so unlike anything—anything—”

“Human?”

Flushing slightly at Carter’s proffered word, she nodded shyly in agreement. “Not that I’m trying to make you feel less-than in any way.”

She caught the glint of mischief in his eyes as he replied, “You could always make it up to me and take me flying.”

Red leather boots instantly returned to the balcony’s concrete deck at the sudden spike of concern Kara felt through her connection to Cat. With movements so swift neither Grant had any idea what had just happened, she gathered all the trash into one empty candy bag and sprang from the couch, pivoting to face the balcony doorway.

Realizing she’d been caught, Cat finally made her way out of the shadows. As she approached, she filled her connection to Kara with as much reassurance as she could, not wanting the hero to fly off.

With a feline fluidity she noticed Kara couldn’t seem to stop watching, Cat sashayed to the edge of the coffee table and rested her hands along the sharp lines of her hips.

The CEO watched the hero slowly morph into her assistant, all nerves and fidgeting and fluster in the most damnably adorable combination. Cocking one eyebrow and tilting her head to the side, she kept watching Kara even as she addressed her son.

“I seriously doubt anyone on any planet would ever consider it a good idea to amp up a Kryptonian with copious amounts of high fructose corn syrup and then blackmail them for a spin around the city.”

Despite her still shuddering nerves, Kara snorted in amusement. “I’m fairly sure on some planets that might actually be illegal.”

Surprise and pleasure at Kara’s unexpected participation in Cat’s teasing twirled her lips up into a flustering smirk.

Flitting her fingers toward her office, she finished, “Carter, why don’t you place the trash that was once most of my candy stash in the garbage and collect your things? We’ll need to stop at the store on the way home to replenish our Super supplies.”

The hero blushed at the comment, but the way her lips inched higher into a grin let Cat know she felt the CEO’s teasing mood.

As Carter took the trash from the hero’s hand, he casually muttered, “We might want to skip the caramel.”

He laughed all the way back into Cat’s office at the huff his comment received. Cat watched the exchange—watched the adoration in the hero’s eyes as she followed Carter’s path. More importantly, she _felt_ how real that adoration was.

Stepping closer finally pulled Kara’s attention back toward her. Whatever further teasing Cat might have had in mind fell silent under the guileless gaze taking her in completely.

“Thank you.” The CEO shifted her attention out toward the horizon, reveling in the warmth she could feel radiating off the woman before her. “I can say without doubt, you made not only his evening but also his week, month, and possibly rest of his year.”

“It was my pleasure. He really is very special, Cat.” Bowing her head, she whispered, “Must be genetic.”

Smile slowly unfurling along her lips, Cat turned so she could see the hero’s face. When her gaze cut askance toward her office, Kara replied, “He ran to the restroom.”

A hum vibrated along the column of Cat’s neck, drawing the hero’s attention. However, she looked up instantly at the feel of Cat’s fingers wrapping around her wrist. With a tug, she brought the hero’s hand up and, locking gazes, pressed it flat against her chest.

Silence swirled around them as they listened to the rhythms of their private language. Cat felt Kara’s fingers twitch in response to the moment she felt the double beat of Cat’s heart. When her eyes widened, it gave Cat the perfect view of shifting colors.

“I’ve never seen the actual change before.” She felt the nervous spike, the corresponding shake of Kara’s hand. Reaching up, she pressed her other palm against Kara’s cheek.

Her emotions were a perfect calming counterpoint to the hero’s nerves. “It’s beautiful.”

_You’re beautiful._

Kara smiled at the words, both spoken and silent. With a nod, she leaned in, barely brushing her lips against Cat’s cheek. A moment later, she was gone, Cat’s hair tousling in the wake of her departure.

When Carter returned, backpack settled on one shoulder, Cat heard the disappointment in his sigh. “I wanted to say goodnight.”

“I’m pretty sure she’d hear you say it right now. You know she has ears like a bat.”

Carter clicked his tongue at the comment. “I don’t think the Supers like being compared to the Bats, Mom.”

With a half-hearted eye roll, she turned away from the skyline to focus on Carter.

“Mom, she said—”

Before her son could utter anything more, Cat shook her head. “I don’t want you to tell me any of what you two discussed this evening, Carter. She trusts you—and that’s a precious gift you never want to lose.”

With a slow nod, he sighed, “I really like her.”

“How could you not?” She grimaced at her wistfulness. Clearing her throat, she corrected her tone to a more preferred blasé cadence. “After all, she is _my_ protégé.”

“She’s your _bashert_.”

Cat knew better than to even bother with deception or denial. Kissing his temple, she wrapped an arm around him and guided them toward her office.

“Come on, let’s go get dinner. Boy cannot live on Brach’s alone.”

She cherished the sound of his amusement as he waited for her to grab her bag.

Later that night, after Carter had gone to bed, Cat made her way out onto the balcony at their home. She curled up on a lounger, enjoying the warm summer night settling around her. Eyes slipping shut, she focused on the connection with Kara, smiling as she realized the hero was still enjoying some flight time. There was a weariness present, too, deep within the hero’s bones.

Though there had been nothing to report on that evening’s news, Cat had felt Kara’s earlier fight—or, more precisely, had felt the moment Kara had secured herself from their bond to protect Cat from whatever she had to face. Kara had actually grown quite adept at locking down her emotions during her encounters as Supergirl. Though Cat admittedly hated the decision, she understood: There was no way Kara could fly into the midst of blazing danger, knowing Cat would in any way experience whatever it was she had to face—or, conversely, experiencing any of Cat’s emotional responses to whatever danger she was facing.

Therefore, she knew Kara had battled some kind of threat that day, but beyond that, all she knew was the hero was now downright exhausted and clearly in need of rest. She sighed in relief as she felt the sensation of flight abate, hoping it meant Kara was turning in for the evening.

The fear to shoot through her body several minutes later left her trembling, dazed, and completely uncertain how she’d ended up on the balcony floor. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she grimaced at the familiar constriction in her chest and closed her eyes against the disorientation to wash through her. Whatever was happening to Kara, she was struggling to make sense of it—or struggling to fight it.

Her fingers shook as she grabbed her phone and hit the speed dial button for Kara’s cell phone. When she only got voicemail all three times she called, she pulled up her contact list. Right below her listing for Kara Danvers was the number she needed: Kara ICE.

The phone rang once before she heard a clipped, curious tone. “Danvers.”

Barely managing to keep breathing, Cat forced out, “Alex Danvers? Is this Kara’s sister?”

She heard the instant switch from curiosity to guarded concern. “Who is this and how did you get this number?”

“This is Cat Grant. I need you to find your sister—find Kara. She just—she was just terrified—more frightened than I’ve felt from her in a long time. And now—now she’s—she’s still scared, but she’s confused. Whatever’s happening to her, she doesn’t understand. I can’t tell whether she’s fighting to figure it out or-or fighting to stop it—but either way, she needs you.”

She knew she was rambling, and the thought occurred to her halfway through that Kara might not have explained to Alex how exactly Cat Grant could have such an intimate knowledge of her sister’s emotional states. “Please tell me any of this makes sense to you.”

Thankfully, however, Alex immediately allayed her worries. “It’s okay, Ms. Grant. I understand. But do you know where Kara is? Can you tell me where I can find her right now?”

With a bewildered sigh, Cat leaned forward, resting her forehead against the tops of her knees. “I-I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since she stopped by CatCo on her patrol of the city earlier this evening.”

She inhaled sharply when she realized she’d just given away how deep her knowledge of Kara extended. To the sister’s credit, she simply continued to move forward with her questions. “Did she seem all right during her visit?”

“I only saw her briefly tonight. My son spent more time with her, but he didn’t mention her being out of sorts.”

“And you didn’t sense anything wrong with her then?”

“Beyond her being tired, no. Only now. She did just stop flying and I haven’t sensed her start again.”

Alex’s voice filled with astonishment. “Y-you can feel her fly?”

“Yes. But she’s not flying now,” she repeated, trying to refocus Alex’s attention on the immediate problem. “Does this mean she’s home? I tried to call her before I called you, but all I got was her voicemail.”

“Let me try.” Cat heard Alex immediately begin to address what was apparently a direct communications link with the hero: “Supergirl, please respond with your location and status.”

A count of three passed before Cat heard her once more: “Supergirl, I repeat, please respond. I need a location and status report.”

Cat reached out through her connection with Kara, trying to send a similar request emotionally. What she felt in response confounded her. “She’s still upset and scared, but I’m feeling ambivalence. Whatever is happening to her, she doesn’t quite believe it—but she _wants_ to.”

As she spoke, she could hear Alex softly giving orders and explaining the situation to others on her side of the call. Normally not one to share attention, at that moment all Cat wanted was for Alex to find Kara and tell her the hero was all right.

“Ms. Grant, I’ve got a team together and we’re heading to Kara’s place now. The tracker in her earpiece is indicating she’s there, but since she isn’t responding, I can’t confirm that yet. Is it all right if I call you back at this number once we locate her?”

Wanting nothing more than for Alex to keep her on the line, Cat instead forced herself to nod and reply, “Yes, of course. I will wait for your call tonight.”

Catching the implication, Alex agreed, “I’ll call as soon as I can.” The pause that followed almost made Cat believe she’d already hung up before she softly added, “And thank you for calling me as quickly as you did.”

The line went silent, the only sound the buzz of nerves humming through her as she settled back once more to wait. An agonizing hour passed before ending with the startling vibration of her phone clenched tightly in her hand. Cat barely controlled the level of her voice as she still blurted out, “Is she all right?”

The roughness of Alex’s voice answered her question. “Ms. Grant, we did find Kara in her apartment. We’ve got her back at our facility now and our doctors are with her.”

“Doctors? What’s happened? Why does she need doctors?”

Instead of answering, Alex asked, “What are you feeling from her right now?”

“What?” Not expecting the question, she forced herself to focus on the emotions she’d been monitoring ever since her initial call to Alex. “She still seems uncertain and afraid, but the desire to be where she is continues to grow stronger.”

“Is—is she responding to you?” Alex huffed slightly. “I mean, however you two communicate through your connection, is she doing that now?”

Drawing a shaky breath, Cat focused on attracting Kara’s attention. “She’s not ignoring me,” she finally offered. “But she’s also not really responding.”

After a few more failed attempts to get a substantial response, she finally snapped, “What’s happening to her? Is she in danger right now?”

In the ensuing silence, Cat could hear Alex giving medical orders before finally responding to her. “I honestly don’t know. Her physical readings are all well within normal parameters considering—”

The immediate full stop felt like the shiver of nails down a chalkboard to Cat. “Considering what? What’s happened to her, Alex?”

“I really can’t give you details, Ms. Grant. I’m sorry. All I can say is we are doing everything we can to help her.”

In a voice Cat would forever deny could ever sound so small, so vulnerable, she asked, “May I come be with her?”

“That’s not possible right now.”

Even through the anger she felt at the refusal, Cat could hear the sincerity of Alex’s regret. “But I promise I will provide you with updates as often as I can. May I make a request?”

The question surprised the CEO. “Of course.”

Emotion edged along Alex’s voice. “Could you stay with her? Let her know you’re there with her? She’s terrified of being alone.”

Cat caught the sound of the final word choking from Alex’s throat. “I promise. I won’t let her be alone through this, Alex.”

“That’s why she’s taken all she has from you, you know.” Cat heard the anguish recede beneath a decidedly steelier tone. “Far more than she _ever_ deserved.”

“She never deserved any of what I put her through and, quite frankly, she should have pitched me into the sun for how horribly I’ve behaved. I earned it.”

Years as an investigative reporter had honed Cat’s ability to read people with surgical precision—not that she needed quite that level at that moment. She was almost immediately rewarded for her honesty with a slightly nonplussed though noticeably amused laugh. “Yeah, well, Kara was too busy keeping me from leading a tactical mission to make the Queen of All Media _mysteriously_ disappear.”

It was Cat’s turn to laugh at the sentiment, enjoying the brief respite from the severity of the situation. “I know now who to call the next time my ex-husband disappoints our son.”

Alex’s hum of approval filled the line. “I have a feeling Kara would do the honors there. She would do anything to protect and defend those she loves.”

Sobering at her own words and the responding gasp she heard through the line, Alex finished, “No matter what you might have put her through out of recent poor judgment, Kara claims she only survived her journey here because you never gave up on her. If my sister believes it, then I believe it. I trust you to take care of her while we work to figure out what’s going on. I will text you should anything major change. Please call or text me if you pick up anything from Kara you believe is urgent to report.”

Left again to silence, Cat succumbed to the fear building within her while reaching out, tugging a little more insistently at her connection with Kara. Never before had Kara not instantly responded to even the slightest _hint_ of interest or curiosity from Cat.

She blinked furiously against the tears of frustration burning her eyes. “Come on, Kara,” she whispered, flooding the bond with a sense of urgency that barely matched how she truly felt.

She gulped in air around a sob of relief at the feel of Kara responding. She could feel the concern, feel the comfort, feel the worry. However, threading through it all was a frightening undercurrent Cat could feel pulling at Kara’s focus, encouraging her to ignore Cat’s intrusion.

“What’s happening to you, my darling?”

Fists lay clenched in her lap as she realized whatever was happening, it was more than just confusing the hero’s emotional state; it was somehow trying to take control of it. As she broadened her focus beyond just seeking a response from Kara, she could feel a vulgar alteration through their connection—a sickly sweet poison wrapping its way around Kara’s heart with cloying desperation.

Fury and fear streamed from her eyes as she forced her way through to reach Kara before she sank completely into whatever delusion was tempting the hero away from reality—away from her.

“Not a chance,” she growled, reaching further through their connection than she ever had before.

She instantly felt intrusive, privy to emotional depths she understood why Kara would keep hidden, even from her.

Rage ensnared her in tightly wound coils, squeezing the breath from her lungs. Sorrow drilled into her bones, desiccating the marrow until it crackled like tinder. Guilt sparked through every nerve in her body, setting her alight to the very ends with unquenchable torment.

This was Kara’s private pain, swirling and surging like storm-swollen tides, flooding her in tears, and breaking her unceasingly atop the remains of each heartbreak remembered for each life lost— _stolen_.

“Kara.”

Promises still unspoken looped through every curve and rise of the name that slipped from Cat’s lips as she dove into the center of the hero’s emotional maelstrom, planting herself firmly as the calming eye. Whatever was happening, Cat Grant was not going to let it without putting up one hell of a fight.

The next several hours passed in an exhausting blur as Cat continued to counteract in every way she could whatever was trying its best to deceive Kara, to lure Kara away from the reality Cat refused to quit reminding her was there, waiting for her to return to it. She understood that whatever Kara was experiencing, it was soothing and familiar and slowed the constant undertow of heartbreak the hero was so weary of fighting. She also understood how tenuous the calm was and how easily she could push through it and keep Kara from slipping too far from her reach. She was growing tired, however, and fearful of what might happen if she slipped in her vigilance.

“Come on, darling. Stay here. Stay with me.”

The words fell from her lips with unconscious ease as she focused on her tether to Kara’s emotions. She held firm, no matter the intensity of the deception transpiring within the hero’s mind.

“ _Please_ , Kara.”

Awareness skittered along her spine as she felt the familiar sensation of being watched from the shadows beyond the balcony’s light. Cat slowly pushed herself up to her feet, disoriented by the sudden arrival that didn’t match the emotions that continued to confound her.

Squinting into the darkness, seeking the familiar silhouette that would finally calm her spirit, she called out, “You haven’t hidden like this in a while.”

The teasing smirk quickly fell from her lips at the blur of motion to bring the unexpected and unfamiliar visitor standing before her.

Towering over the CEO, the intruder stared imperiously down at her. With her shoulders back and head held at an angle that jutted her chin, Cat couldn’t help but see a nobility in the woman’s stance—not to mention a striking similarity to a particular hero.

“I do not hide. I observe.”

A musical lilt twisted through the halting formality of the intruder’s English.

Distrustful of the visitor, regardless of her similarity to Kara, and still deeply off-centered from the past several hours, Cat backed away. “Whatever you say, Bellatrix.”

The other woman furrowed her brow before rushing forward so swiftly, Cat had no time to react. She gripped the CEO’s chin to keep her head still and stared into eyes impressively impassive. “If I were not able to hear your heartbeat right now, I would think you were truly fearless.”

She forced Cat’s face to one side, then the other, staring the whole time at the way the faint light played in the colors of her glare.

“Rain forests of Jzhetani,” she softly muttered. “She was right—her _khahshchav_ wasn’t another Kryptonian.”

Curiosity overshadowed whatever else this mysterious visitor had sparked within Cat. “Since I left my English-Kryptonese dictionary at the office, you’re going to have to give me some kind of primer on what it is exactly you’re babbling.”

With a quick though pointless effort, she pushed at the hand still gripping her chin. Surprisingly, the other woman relinquished her hold. “You are either formidable or reckless.”

Cat sniffed at the sentiment. “You’re not the first to make this observation.”

Massaging her jaw gently, she continued to flick her gaze along the other woman’s features. “Perhaps you can go back to focusing on helping me understand what you’re rambling about.”

Ignoring the statement, the intruder instead asked, “Why have you and my niece not consecrated your bond of _khahshchav_?”

Were it not for the unexpected anger underlining each word, Cat was certain she would be blushing at the intimate impertinence of the question. “Your niece? All she has left from her family is her cousin.”

“You are incorrect in your misguided assumption.”

The frown the stranger indulged somehow softened her features. “I’m certain my sister never would have thought she actually saved me the day she condemned me to Fort Rozz.”

Cat swallowed back the realization that this woman bore the same pain of loss as Kara. “How did you survive?”

Startled by the sympathetic understanding, the Kryptonian at first shook her head. She finally offered, “I was off-world when Krypton died—caught in the same place that trapped Kara and unforgivably delayed her arrival to you.”

Cat’s jaw gaped at the explanation, her mind blanked by the realization of what she had sensed all those years.

“You have already lost so much time, and now you _waste_ even more.”

The urgency in the Kryptonian’s tone piqued Cat’s concern to levels close to anxiety. “Why does this upset you so much?”

Her blue eyes darkened with regret. “Because you are almost out of time.”

Before Cat could understand what happened next, she found herself leveled to her knees, drowning in desolation. Gasping around the pain splintering within her chest, she reached out, opened herself fully to the agony, ancient yet born anew within Kara.

Tears dripped from her eyelashes as she bent over, one hand clutched against her chest. “It wasn’t real. None of it was real.”

She hadn’t realized she’d spoken the words aloud until she felt hands, unyielding yet gentle, raise her back to her feet and steady her in place. “They have severed the Black Mercy’s hold on Kara. She will be coming here soon.”

Releasing her hold slowly, the Kryptonian backed away enough to test whether Cat could stand on her own. “Be her comfort. Do not let her bear this pain alone.”

“No.” Cat stumbled forward, gritting her teeth against the sobs rattling within her chest, and grabbed the Kryptonian’s bicep with an impressively powerful grip. “Don’t you _dare_ hurt her more. She has suffered too goddamned much for a thousand lifetimes let alone this one.”

Looking down at the fingers clenched tightly against her arm, Astra allowed the faintest slip of a smile across her lips. “You are formidable _and_ reckless. But Rao has bonded you to my niece, which bonds us as family.”

She looked out over the flickering lights of the city below them. She could hear the impending approach—knew she had to leave if she wanted to avoid the battle coming.

Instead, she glanced once more at the hand still gripping tightly around her bicep as if the woman holding onto her truly believed she could keep a Kryptonian at bay. Part of her actually wondered at whether this human could do just that with her will alone.

Time for pondering drew to a reluctant halt at the furious growl from behind her.

“Astra! Get away from her _now_.”

Rather than move, Astra merely turned to meet her niece’s glare. Kara’s eyes blazed white-hot, but Astra caught the faint wisps of steam curling upward from the tears evaporating in the glow of her heat vision. “I am truly sorry about the Black Mercy, my Little One.”

“Don’t.”

Kara’s voice fractured violently against the word.

Tightening her grip on the Kryptonian’s forearm before letting go, Cat stepped in front of Astra and waited for the hero to make eye contact. When she did, Cat felt the breath crush from her lungs. Anguish twisted Kara’s features into something fearful and broken, and she nearly stumbled backward under the strength of the hero’s pain and rage through their bond.

“Supergirl.”

Wind tousled blonde curls as the hero continued to hover just beyond reach. Once more, her gaze shifted to behind Cat. Her eyes began to spark in time with the fierce thump of her heart. “You made me lose them all _again_.”

The low rasp of her voice tore jagged wounds into Cat’s heart.

Movement behind her warned of Astra’s intention to leave what little protection she was providing the general. Calmly, Astra stepped within clear shot of Kara’s heat vision.

“I know you have no reason to believe me, Kara, but I never would have condemned you to the fate of a Black Mercy.”

The hero barely noted the use of her real name. “You want me to believe the troops of the murderous General Astra In-Ze acted without her knowledge?”

The weight of unshed tears choked in Astra’s throat. “I deserve your mistrust.”

She held out her hands, palms out, and bowed her head, bearing her neck to the hero.

“But I swear before Rao himself, I did not order the Black Mercy attack. I would never inflict such pain on you.”

Cat watched Kara hesitate for several tense moments before landing before Astra, her eyes cooling to their shade of blue not quite matched by any Earth hue. The hardness of her gaze survived only a few blinks before fissuring and finally breaking under the rush of tears. The sight acted as a tether, pulling Cat forward on instinct with the need to comfort her hero.

However, she tamped down her own response, knowing the greater importance of letting Astra take the lead. The general heard the soft choke of sobs and instantly responded, stepping close enough she could have wrapped her niece in her embrace. Still, she refrained, waiting for permission she knew she needed once more to earn.

It came in Kara’s own movement into Astra’s space and in her look of silent pleading: _Please don’t go away. Please don’t leave me, too._

The feel of her aunt’s embrace unlocked an emotional dam that rushed through her connection with Cat in a swirling torrent that left the CEO breathless.

“Oh, my precious Little One.” Her tears sank into soft blonde waves as she rested her cheek against Kara’s crown. “I’m so happy to see your _khahshchav_ was able to bring you back.”

Kara nodded, tears thick in her voice when she spoke. “When I was under the Black Mercy, you were there.”

“As your enemy.”

The words barely made it free from the knot of emotion choking her. “As my family.”

Cat watched the woman’s features crumple finally beneath the implacable mask she could no longer keep in place. When she spoke again, alien sounds twirled and swooped from her tear-roughened voice. Every word flowed over Kara, a soothing balm to wounds decades old and still unhealed.

Only toward the end did Cat finally recognize the one Kryptonian word she was certain she would never forget—even if she still had no idea its meaning.

Kara pushed backward slightly and Cat was certain if it were brighter out, she would see a blush in the hero’s cheeks. Her thoughts shifted the moment she realized Kara was now stepping to her side. Feeling the hero’s hand tentatively reach for hers, she quickly tangled their fingers together with a pleased smile at how Kara dipped her head and most definitely blushed more deeply.

“Aunt Astra, this is Cat Grant.” She angled her head just enough to watch Cat’s expression peripherally. “My _khahshchav_.”

The general began to respond, but Kara gently interrupted her in mid-sentence. “Please speak in English so Cat can understand.” She bowed her head slightly in deference to her aunt. “We will speak of Krypton together soon enough.”

With an understanding hum, Astra reached forward and lifted Kara’s head by her chin. “As you wish, Kara—but do not bow before me. You are now First of the House of El. You bow for no one.”

Cat watched how Astra’s words brightened Kara’s expression, straightened her back and lifted her head in a manner that perhaps subconsciously mimicked the natural highborn stance of her aunt.

Astra continued to hold Kara’s chin, her eyes shimmering with love and pride. “You have grown into the hero Alura always knew you would be.”

Kara’s smile dimmed slightly in concern and both Kryptonians pivoted to face the still-dark horizon. Cat squinted in the direction they watched, only discerning the figures moments before they landed on her balcony.

A black-clad form slipped free from the grip of the figure who had flown them there, quickly rushing to Kara while drawing a brightly glowing sword from the sheath strapped across her back.

“Back away and keep your hands where I can see them.”

Her voice never wavered as she positioned herself between the two Kryptonians. Cat couldn’t help but be impressed by her bravery.

Astra staggered backward slightly and Cat startled when she saw Kara stumble away as well, her features tightening into a pained grimace. “Alex, please put that away. Astra—it’s okay. She’s okay.”

The hero stepped into position in front of her aunt, even though it was clearly a struggle, and reached for the woman standing in front of her. “Please, Alex. I know you don’t trust her, but you’re hurting us.”

It was Kara’s final word that broke the agent’s attention on Astra. With a hard swallow, she slipped the sword back into its lead-lined sheath. As soon as she was certain the weapon was secure, she grabbed hold of Kara and yanked her into a full-body hug.

“You shouldn’t have left the DEO so quickly, Kara. I was so scared you might not be strong enough for whatever you were thinking of doing. That thing—it fought so hard to keep you under its control.”

Kara pulled back, her expression an odd juxtaposition of sadness and light. “It did,” she agreed. “But it underestimated the persistence of the most powerful person in National City.”

As she finished her sentiment, she moved from Alex’s hold and once more stepped toward Cat. The CEO inhaled sharply at the feeling of Kara’s fingers sifting through her hair, tipping her head back enough to meet gazes. Kara smiled so softly, so gratefully as her eyes flicked along Cat’s features. “You saved me yet again.”

Leaning forward, she captured Cat’s lips in a tender though insistent kiss. At the sensation of Kara’s mouth against hers, Cat finally surrendered the last of her resistance. Whatever excuses she’d been using to shield herself from this moment seemed meaningless. Astra’s admonishment against their wasted time slipped through her thoughts, and she deepened their kiss while burying her grip into the thick folds of Kara’s cape.

The vibration of Kara’s approving hums tickled along her tongue as she licked curiously into the hero’s mouth. The deep rumble of a throat clearing behind the hero, however, drew her exploration to a reluctant halt. As she leaned back, she smirked at the hazy, half-lidded expression watching her and the flustered flutter of longing unsatisfied pushing through their bond.

“I believe we have some world saving to do right now, Supergirl.”

The teasing admonishment was enough to pull the hero’s attention once more toward the trio standing behind her. When she turned to face them, however, she drew more closely to Cat’s side, her arms drawing the CEO into the snug circle of her embrace.

The figure who had accompanied Alex stepped forward. If his alien countenance startled Cat, she hid the response well. “Supergirl, we need to act quickly.”

His tone, though authoritative, held an apologetic undertone as he glanced from Kara to the CEO held safely in her arms.

Nodding in understanding, Kara focused on the other Kryptonian. “Aunt Astra, please tell me what happened tonight?”

“Non sent the Black Mercy for you.” Astra’s voice bristled with fury. “He has betrayed me and chosen to implement Myriad against my orders.”

“Myriad?” Cat shifted, her reporter instincts kicking into full effect. “What is that—and how much worse is it than what we went through this evening?”

Grimacing, Astra explained to them all Myriad’s intent. Cat tensed in horror at the thought of Non being in possession of the ability to control all of humanity.

“How do we stop him?”

“He will need access to some way to broadcast the signal across a wide range, even if he intends only to start with this city.”

Cat nodded, lips quirked to the side in contemplation. “Maxwell Lord. He controls the largest satellite array here in National City. If Non needs a wide broadcast range, that’s where he’ll go.”

Alex appraised the CEO silently, a glint of approval sharp in her gaze. “Kara, you feel up to this?”

Fingers flexed against Cat’s hips in response before the hero stepped away and began moving toward the agents and Astra. Twisting, she looked once more at Cat. “I will be back. As soon as this is finished—we have some things we need to discuss.”

The CEO touched her fingers to the sudden tingle in her lips, the corners of her mouth tipping up in happy response to Kara’s words. “Be safe. Save the world. Come home.”

Everyone surrounding the hero caught the way Cat’s final words visibly shook her. Cat smirked in amusement and even had to fight back a laugh at the sound of Alex teasing her sister. “You better wipe that shit-eating grin off your face before we have to fight Non.”

“That is literally one of the most disgusting human sayings ever. Why would you grin while—”

“Shut up, goober.”

Even without being able to see Kara’s face, Cat could hear the smile in her words and feel her joy expanding. As soon as Alex settled into a solid hold around her sister’s shoulders, the quartet lifted off and jetted into the still-inky darkness of morning.

Several hours later, Cat squinted out toward the bright horizon beyond her office balcony, barely able to open her eyes. Pain jolted through her head. She felt as though fire licked through her, boiling her blood and charring her bones.

Out in the bullpen, she could hear the pained, stunned sobs and moans of her staff. Beside her, Alex Danvers curled into herself as she hunkered on the floor against the back of one of Cat’s couches. She made no sound, but Cat could hear the harsh grind of her teeth as she bit back her pain.

Instinctively, the CEO reached over and took one of Alex’s hands in her own, squeezing tightly to let her know she was there and understood. She knew Kara had sent Alex to watch over Cat as soon as they realized what Non had done was actually far worse than what they had originally assumed.

The pressure in Cat’s head increased once more, threatening to double her over in agony. No longer able to open her eyes, she grunted out a question to her companion. “How long?”

“Ten minutes.”

Tears slipped down Cat’s cheeks at the words, even as she struggled against the pain pressing into her every thought. Ten minutes left until the pain from Non’s recalibrated Myriad signal obliterated all human life in National City—and then beyond.

Ten minutes left.

Even if the pain weren’t already excruciating, there still wouldn’t be enough time for her to make it to Carter’s school. Her precious boy was alone and too far away to save.

Arms suddenly wrapped around her at the same time she realized she had begun to cry, Carter’s name husking from her lips in a broken prayer.

“She’s not going to give up, Ms. Grant.” Alex held her tightly as she shook from pain and the reality of all they were enduring. “She’ll find a way.”

As if cued by her sister’s words, Kara began to fill their connection with what Cat could only describe as the purest, most intense emotion she had ever felt. Even through the unwavering torment throughout her body, Cat could feel Kara pulling her close, enveloping her in the strength of a bond not even space, time, or Cat Grant’s own special brand of stubbornness could destroy. Nothing in all the universe had succeeded in severing what was meant to be.

Wherever the hero was, whatever she was doing, Cat could feel her taking flight. As the moments ticked slowly by, she could feel the pain in her head receding, could feel the pressure lifting.

And then she could feel Kara letting go, feel a peace washing through her that filled Cat with a horror spreading within her like a sinkhole.

Cat knew in that moment, humanity would survive.

Cat knew in that moment, Kara would not.

Even as those within the bullpen slowly began to rise on trembling legs and stir about, Cat couldn’t stop the sobs quaking through her, shaking her apart at the very seams. Alex held her more tightly than before. Cat could make out the sound of her voice, directed to someone on the other side of her comms link. The words, however refused to solidify.

Not that it mattered—not that anything could ever again matter.

Kara had saved them all.

Cat had never felt more loved or more alone in her entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We were so close to a happy ending there for a minute, weren't we? At least we got some levity this time--and Carter!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Definitely the longest of the story--could have been even longer, but I shifted a couple of things out for later :-)
> 
> Only three more chapters to go...
> 
> The line Kara quotes, “At the same time we are getting used to so many leaving, we are hanging on with a grip to the ones left,” comes from A.R. Ammons's poem "In View of the Fact."


	13. Chapter 13

**_khahshchahv_ **  

She actually _felt_ the crinkle as it formed on her forehead, but her confusion was far too strong for her to care. Pausing her movie, she floated up from the couch and went to her door, answering it before her sister could knock again. 

A strangely pleased smile curled Alex’s lips as she watched Kara’s confusion deepen. “Are you just going to stand there until this candle melts all over the cupcake and my hand? Or are you going to let me in?” 

Stilted sounds caught in Kara’s throat before she sheepishly shifted to the side for Alex to enter. Closing the door, she followed the brunette over to the table in her kitchen. She stared for several silent beats at the candle flickering in the center of a swirl of buttercream before finally blowing it out with a quick, controlled huff. “Is this a French toast cupcake with maple syrup frosting?” 

Alex finished grabbing a plate and utensils and slipped onto the stool opposite where her sister stood. Moving the cupcake onto the plate, she replied, “Yep.” 

Fingers flexed against the tabletop as Kara tried to process what was happening. “But this is my favorite birthday cupcake.” 

“I know.” She nearly broke in her attempts to keep the excitement from her features as she watched Kara glare in frustration and bemusement.  

Instead, she calmly continued, “I’ve been working with Astra—reviewing star charts and matching up Kryptonian calendars with Earth calendars. It’s been quite the journey, but I feel like Astra and I have really connected on a special level.” 

Even in her state of confusion, Kara managed to snort at her sister’s odd teasing. 

Reaching out, Alex tapped the edge of the plate. “The end result of all that bonding time, is this. _Today_ is your real birthday, Kara.”  

She paused to let her words settle before adding, “Not only that, but we figured out your birth year. The Earth equivalent of your Kryptonian birthdate is November 11, 1964.” 

She watched her sister process the words—waited for Kara to comprehend the meaning and significance. At first sign of the tears tumbling from eyes that always shifted to greener hues with deeper emotions, she jumped from her seat and wrapped her sister within the full circle of her arms.  

At the feeling of Alex hugging her as tightly as she could, Kara broke completely. Sobs poured from her lungs even as she felt the soothing mix of joy and relief spreading through her. Somehow, on some instinctual level, she had already known. Hearing Alex speak its truth gave her a sense of validation—a sense of _rightness_ she hadn’t even realized she’d longed for so desperately. 

“It’s okay, Kara.” Alex frowned at the way her sister trembled, her strength barely enough to keep her arms around the hero. “I’m so sorry. I-I thought this would be something you’d want to know.” 

“It is!”  

The Kryptonian shifted so swiftly, Alex’s hold finally broke, her arms dropping away as Kara stood tall once more. Even with tear-streaked cheeks and flushed skin, she exuded an undeniable happiness. “I did want to know, Alex. I—it’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect.” 

Just as quickly as she calmed, Kara crumpled once more into distraught tears. “It’s just—it just feels—” 

“Too little, too late?” 

Her despondent nod pierced the brunette’s heart. With a tug, she led her sister to the couch, settling in and pulling the Kryptonian once more into the protective circle of her arms. Kara snuggled instinctively into Alex’s hug, her head coming to rest against her shoulder. 

After several silent beats, Kara sighed, “I shouldn’t have let her leave.” 

Despite the serious turn the conversation had taken, Alex couldn’t withhold her snort. “What, were you planning on Supergirl holding her hostage for the duration? Because you and I both know even the Girl of Steel is powerless against the Queen of All Media and her infamous stubborn streak.” 

Sitting up, Kara smirked at Alex, lower lip wobbling with the effort. “She would have stayed. If I’d just gone to her after Myriad—explained why I did what I did—why I _had_ to do it.” 

With a sigh, Alex eased back into the corner of the couch. She studied her sister for several moments, struggling with how best to approach the blonde’s statement.  

Finally, she reached out and laid a hand on Kara’s forearm, increasing her grip to a comforting strength. “You know I love you and I will _always_ be Team Kara. But—I was there with her. I saw the way she reacted when she thought you were—”  

The tremble that shook her sister into sudden silence drew Kara closer. Strong Kryptonian arms looped around the brunette and pulled her into the safety of her sister’s embrace. “I’m here, Alex. I’m right here.” 

Nodding while looping her arms around Kara’s waist in return, Alex leaned in, drawing strength from the solid, irrefutable presence. “I saw what Cat went through when she realized what she was feeling from you that day.” 

Worse than the sobs that had sounded like they were breaking the CEO apart, Alex had witnessed the emptiness that had blanked Cat’s stare the moment she realized there was nothing she could do to stop what Kara had done to save them. Even as the agent had tried to explain to the CEO the impromptu rescue she was orchestrating with Astra, Alex knew it was too late. 

“Whatever she felt from you while you were up there—it was finally too much.” 

The brunette closed her eyes at the way her sister’s body jolted in time with her tears.  

“I never meant to hurt her.” 

With a sigh, Alex leaned back, trading places with Kara once more to become the comforter rather than the comforted. She brushed back a stray lock of hair and took one of Kara’s hands, interlacing their fingers. “I know, Kara—and on her logical level, Cat knows that, too. But—” 

She understood the vast, painful difference between _knowing_ and _accepting_. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you should give up hope.” 

She caught the glint of surprise in Kara’s gaze and gave a lopsided grin in response. “That sunny Kara Danvers optimism must be wearing off on me.” 

Steadying her expression, she continued, “What you share with Cat—Astra gave me a little more explanation. She said Krypton’s birthing matrix should have eliminated any possibility of anyone it created experiencing _khahshchahv_ —let alone experiencing it with someone who just happened to live on the planet your family would one day choose as your new home. Even Astra’s ‘highly advanced’ Kryptonian brain couldn’t grasp the statistical improbability of it all.” 

She breathed in relief at the slight upturn of Kara’s lips at her teasing. Pressing her palms against Kara’s cheeks, she stared into the vacillating swirls of color in her sister’s gaze. “You have defied so many odds in your life, Kara. Defy this one. You belong with Cat. Don’t give up on that—or on her.” 

The hero’s expression slowly relaxed as she considered her sister’s words. “You know, as pep talks go, that one wasn’t half bad.” 

Delighted by the tint of teasing in Kara’s tone, Alex still scoffed at the statement. “I’m just trying to get you sorted enough so we can finally eat that cupcake.” 

Kara floated easily off the couch and continued to glide backward toward the kitchen. “Who said I was sharing it?” 

Before she could touch down completely, Alex was up off the couch and beside her. “You eat that whole cupcake in front of me and see just how hard I can make our next training session.” 

Laugh lines deepened around her eyes as Kara halved the dessert, relinquishing Alex’s share with playful flourish.  

The brunette huffed in response. However, she quickly scooped a fingerful of frosting from her half, blopping it against the tip of her sister’s nose. “Happy birthday, Kara.” 

The hero settled onto a stool as she wiped off her nose with a soft laugh. “Thank you, Alex—for everything.” 

“Always, little sister.” A mischievous light sparkled in her eyes. “Although guess I can’t call you _that_ anymore, now that I have proof of just how ancient you actually are.”  

With a crinkle of her nose and a well-aimed huff, Kara released her freeze breath over the top of Alex’s cupcake half, instantly freezing it solid. Catching the brunette’s indignant glower, she shoved the rest of her own half of the treat into her mouth and mumbled through the mouthful, “Respect your elder.” 

Grimacing in mock disgust, Alex punched her sister in the bicep as she passed, dropping the now-frozen treat in front of Kara with an audible _clunk_. “Brat.”  

Kara continued to chew, her eyes shining in a way that made Alex happy, regardless of the loss of sugary satisfaction.  

Suddenly uncertain, the brunette shifted her weight, her hands slipping into her back pockets in a way Kara knew meant she was trying not to fidget. “So, you want to hang out, do an impromptu sister night?” She glanced back at the television, still paused on the movie Kara had been watching before her arrival. “Maybe watch something a little lighter than _Terms of Endearment_?” 

Kara dipped her head in response, chuckling at Alex’s comment. “I’d love that, but I’m pretty sure you’ve been dedicating your Friday evenings to broadening Astra’s knowledge of Earth foods, no?” 

Seeing the instant widening of Alex’s eyes, her laughter grew. “What’s on the menu tonight?” 

The brunette fought to keep her voice steady even as she felt her cheeks burning. “I-I was going to take her to that Thai place you love so much, over near the waterfront.” She quickly pulled a hand out of her pocket, waving it as though brushing aside the words she’d just spoken. “But we can do that later this weekend—” 

Blonde hair slipped off her shoulders as Kara shook her head. “Nope. I will not stand in the way of my aunt learning the joys of Thai cuisine.” She smiled knowingly at the way Alex flushed an even deeper red while fighting not to smile. “Be sure to get her an order of Suea Rong Hai. I think she’ll really like that one.”  

Not wanting to dwell too long on the edge of a deeper conversation she knew she’d have to have with Kara soon enough, Alex instead pulled her sister in for one final hug of the evening. 

Heading once more toward the apartment door, she twirled to face Kara while walking backward. “How about game night next Friday? I think it would do Astra good to start interacting with us outside the DEO.” 

“I think that sounds like a great idea. I’ll let Winn and James know.” 

“Good. I owe Winn an ass-kicking in Carcassonne.” 

As Kara watched Alex disappear behind the closing door, she called out, “Just don’t threaten him again if you start to lose. You know he scares easily!” 

She brightened at the sound of Alex’s amusement trailing all the way down the stairs. Slipping from her seat, she popped Alex’s still-frozen portion of cupcake into her mouth. Easily cracking through the frozen icing, she moved once more toward her couch.  

With a frown, however, she stared at the television for a beat before deciding she was no longer in the mood for the movie she’d chosen for the evening. Instead, she clicked off the TV and strode over to the open windows behind it. 

She carefully settled onto the sill, using her enhanced balance to draw up her knees against her chest. Below, she could hear all the separate sounds that harmonized into the familiar din of the city. It was a content cacophony that evening, as people hustled home or out to dinner or dancing or whatever else they had planned to help them leave behind that week’s stresses. 

Kara could understand well that desire. Ever since Cat’s abrupt departure from CatCo, she’d found herself struggling to find the rhythms of her new role and new supervisor. Truth be told, she didn’t really mind either. She found the challenges of learning how to be a reporter exhilarating, and while Snapper Carr could be a supreme jackass in his own right, he was proving to be a fair though hard mentor. Kara, however, knew she would never like any other boss for one irrefutable reason: They weren’t Cat. 

The hero frowned at the too-familiar pain she always felt any time she thought of Cat since she had left.   

Turning her tear-filled gaze upward, she stared into the night sky—past the city’s veil of light pollution, far into the depth of darkness and star shine, well beyond human sight. As she did, she let the strong, steady beat of Cat’s heart fill her head, setting the rhythm of her thoughts with its diegetic constancy. She bowed her head as she focused on it rather than the white noise of a bond not blocked—simply abandoned.  

It would be so easy to slip out the window and into the sky, let the familiar beat guide her—bring her home.  

But what then? Did Cat need more time to deal with Kara’s decision regarding Myriad? Or had Kara simply given the smaller blonde all the time she needed to shut down whatever had finally begun between them before it could go any further? Would Cat welcome her if she just showed up? Or would she allow her hurt to harden her to any attempts at apology? 

Alex was right: Cat was undeniably stubborn—and supremely intimidating. She was also determined, inquisitive, and brash. She was hard out of necessity, curt, dismissive. She was demanding.  

Beneath it all, though, Kara knew _her_ —knew her insecurity, her anxiety, her fear. Knew just as well her loyalty, her devotion, her protectiveness, her fierceness.  

Her love.  

She swallowed hard against the final thought, against the empty ache of denial she’d hoped they could finally put behind them. Myriad, however, had made her realize how such hope stemmed solely from her own selfishness. Her life was no longer her own—she had defaulted on that the moment she’d taken to the sky and saved her sister’s plane. Now, she belonged to the people: Supergirl, the Hero of National City, knighted so by the Queen herself.  

How, then, could she ever expect Cat to give herself completely to someone no longer able to do the same in return?  

Breath shaking from her lungs in a downhearted sigh, the hero rose, turned her back on the open sky and the waiting temptation. As she moved through her evening ablutions and finally curled up beneath her covers, she closed her eyes against the constant sting of tears and whispered into the emptiness, “Happy birthday, Cat.”  

The next week was a blur of Snapper’s routine priggish pushback on all her articles, combined with a surprisingly active superhero duty sheet that kept Kara moving—and (mostly) not moping. Plus, the promise of game night with her friends and family kept her focused on something other than the quandary of how to fix what she feared became more irreparable with every passing day.  

When Friday afternoon finally began its inevitable slow-motion countdown to quitting time, Kara received word from Alex that the DEO needed her help. They were on their way to wrangle, in her sister’s words, some “exotic animals” that had escaped from a traveling zoo the DEO determined was actually an alien menagerie. The hero quickly agreed to assist them, excitement bubbling over in her voice at the thought of getting to play with animals regardless of their planet of origin.  

“You know you can’t keep any of them, right?”  

Kara’s sulking quickly drew an amused hum from beside her. “She once tried to convince her mother to let her keep a newborn _yagrum_ she found during a school field trip.”  

The agent’s forehead furrowed with confusion at Astra’s statement. “ _Yagrum_?” 

With a sigh, Kara asked, “Remember CatCo’s giant pink panther?” At her sister’s uncertain nod, she explained, “Imagine if it were about ten times bigger, purple, and had three rows of teeth.” 

Astra continued to grin at the sight of Alex’s shocked expression. “Needless to say, neither of her parents was inclined to say yes.” 

Catching sight of her sister preparing to rebuff Astra’s statement, Alex replied, “Then allow me, on behalf of the Department of Extranormal Operations, to issue this preemptive: No, Kara.”  

“Whatever,” the hero sighed as she lifted off the ground to begin what would quickly become a rodeo round-up of comic proportions. In the end, however, the Kryptonians and agents worked together to secure all the escaped animals and prep them for transport back to Desert Containment, with only one casualty: Alex’s pride.  

As the brunette stood, shell-shocked and separated from the rest of her team, Kara and Astra studied her with matching curious stares. They noticeably were the only ones willing to get anywhere near the agent. 

“You smell _really_ bad.”  

Glaring with an intensity Kara was certain would have melted her face if her sister had been Kryptonian, Alex snarled, “You think so?” 

She swiped her hand through a gooey splatter of mucus coating her tactical vest and flicked it toward Kara. The hero quickly dodged the malodorous sludge while trying her hardest not to laugh. “Astra did try to warn you not to get too close.” 

“Just shut up and get me back to the DEO.”  

“No way,” the hero laughed as she floated away from her sister. “Supergirl has an image to uphold. I can’t show up in public in a suit with goo stains that smell like a Super skunk!” 

Seeing the flex of muscles signaling an imminent pounce from the agent, Astra moved to intercept. She swiped aside a lock of Alex’s hair from where it stuck to her forehead. “I will escort you back to base, Alexandra.”  

“Uh-huh.”  

Alex shot another glare over Astra’s shoulder at the drawn-out teasing sound from Kara. This glare, however, came with a blush the hero found highly agreeable for her sister’s complexion—and happiness. Eyes narrowing in a way Kara knew meant trouble, she replied, “Take me to Kara’s place instead. I can wash up there.”  

When she felt Astra carefully lift her off the ground, Alex couldn’t resist sticking out her tongue at the disapproving grumbles coming from Kara. As they reached a comfortable elevation, she heard the hero yell, “I don’t care what you wear, but you better leave that gross-ass uniform outside of my apartment! Tonight’s game night, and we don’t all need to smell _that_!”  

She watched the duo disappear beyond the horizon, laughing despite her absolute seriousness about the uniform. At the approach of footsteps, she glanced peripherally and her smile grew.  

“Your sister stinks.”  

Turning at the comment, Kara caught the spirited shine in Lucy’s bright gaze. “I can’t really refute that assessment, Major.” 

With a chuff, Lucy crossed her arms. “Yeah, well, I’m sure Astra will help give her a thorough cleaning.”  

Kara’s responding gasp was adorable, and Lucy crumbled into tear-inducing laughter at the sound of her follow-up chokes and adamant rebuke: “Too far, Luce. _Too far_.”  

“Yeah, yeah.” The diminutive major leaned into Kara with a friendly shoulder bump. “Vasquez and I will be over around seven. Want us to bring anything?” 

“Beer? Wine? Grain alcohol for Alex to drown her goo-inspired woes?” The hero lifted off the ground with a laugh at Lucy’s wide grin. “I’m going to swing by the store on my way home, so I’ll take care of the snacks. I figure we could order pizza once everyone arrives.”  

Offering the hero a mock salute, Lucy turned and began strolling back toward the caravan of DEO vehicles preparing to return to Desert Containment. “Just be sure to give Alex and Astra plenty of time to—get clean.” 

All the agents turned at the sound of the hero’s mortified groan as she shot off into the evening sky.  

When she did finally reach the market around the corner from her apartment, if she happened to spend a noticeably longer amount of time perusing the aisles for snacks, she told herself it had absolutely nothing to do with Lucy’s comments—or how true they might be. With a shudder and a sigh, the hero tossed two more bags of chocolate chip cookies into her basket before finally making her way to the registers.  

As she waited for the cashier to ring up her purchases, her gaze wandered along the rows of what Alex always called “top shelf” liquor they kept behind the registers. Kara’s eyes would normally glaze over at the sight of all the different colors and bottle shapes. That evening, however, her gaze fell upon a familiar bottle that caused her breath to stutter in her chest.  

“Could you—could you also add a bottle of the Macallan single malt?” 

The cashier hitched one shoulder apathetically while reaching back for the bottle Kara indicated. Her eyes widened at the price to flash across the screen, but she swallowed back her desire to cancel the purchase. She even partially succeeded in convincing herself the bottle was solely meant to help improve her sister’s evening and mood—never mind that Alex would be perfectly happy with the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue she kept in Kara’s cabinet for “emergency purposes.”  

Gathering her bags with a nod, the hero ambled back to her apartment, sure to make as much noise as possible when she entered. The main area was empty and she could hear the shower running in the back. She could also hear Astra moving toward the privacy curtain to Kara’s room. “Do you need any assistance, Little One?”  

As it always did, her aunt’s endearment drew tears to her eyes and a thickness to her voice she didn’t bother to clear. “I’m okay, Aunt Astra. Thank you.”  

She quickly pulled out bowls for all the snacks and stacked up dishes and utensils for when they ordered food. After setting out a variety of glasses for whatever her guests brought to drink, she pulled out the bottle of scotch and placed it on the table in front of her. She traced the bottle’s chevron-shaped protrusion above the label before finally snapping the seal, uncorking it, and taking a deep breath.  

The moment she caught the tingle of the smoky nose, she felt the warmth of memories pour through her: late nights and layouts, takeout and talks past midnight, the swing of soft curls in summer breeze, the teasing shine of emerald eyes traced by golden contrails. 

Gaze blurring too rapidly to control, Kara re-corked the bottle and placed it on the uppermost shelf of one of her cabinets, far enough back so Alex wouldn’t be able to see it. Wiping away her tears with an embarrassed sniffle, she grabbed the rest of a six-pack Alex had left after their last Netflix binge. Beer and Johnnie Walker would have to be enough for the brunette after all.  

The familiar syncopated “secret knock” Winn always used when he came over thankfully broke the moment for her. As she crossed the floor to answer, she rolled her eyes once again at his insistence on using a special knock with someone who could literally see through walls. Still, it always made her laugh, which she desperately needed in that moment.  

Swinging the door open, her greeting froze behind the smile locked in place by surprise. Winn swayed under her stare, scratching the back of his neck nervously. His unexpected companion finally broke the moment with a hesitant, “H-hi, Kara.”  

The greeting shook the hero from her confused silence. “Carter?”  

She moved to the side, allowing the young boy into her apartment, Winn trailing sheepishly behind him. As she shut her door, she stammered, “What—where—how are you here?” 

A thought frightened her. “Wait, where is your mom? Is she all right?” 

“Mom’s fine,” he quickly assuaged. “She’s still traveling, so I’m staying with my dad and his latest girlfriend to make it to live-in status.” Kara caught the bitter twist to his words. 

“Do they know where you are? And how did you end up here?” She partially directed the second question toward Winn, who grimaced nervously and noticeably looked toward the door.  

“I went to CatCo after school. I told my dad I needed to work on a group project all evening. I just wanted to see if I could catch you before you left the office for the day. All I could find, though, was Winn.” 

At mention of his name, the tech guru laughed in a high-pitched titter that made Kara cringe. “I-I couldn’t just leave him wandering around alone,” he finally blurted out. “I mean, Ms. Grant would be angry enough knowing he was there on a lie, right? I-I was just being a responsible adult and-and protecting the boss lady’s son.”  

Carter huffed indignantly. “Protect me from what? It’s not like there are actual bulls in CatCo’s bullpen.”  

The hero snorted at the familiar Grant snark, but before she could reply, sounds coming from the back of the apartment drew the trio’s attention. As they watched, Alex and Astra emerged from behind the privacy curtain.  

Alex ran her fingers through still-damp hair. “I scrubbed up three times and I _still_ feel like I smell like a Tarkazian razor beast. And that disgusting sludge he sprayed is never coming out of my uniform! I’m going to have to have you or Kara burn it.” 

Behind her, the taller brunette huffed. Her gaze, however, noticeably softened in good humor. “You are being overly dramatic, Alexandra. You smell fine, even to my heightened senses. Besides, it is a high compliment for such a creature to choose to anoint you for its mating ritual.” 

Alex made a disgusted sound, but her response hung in her throat at the sight of Winn and Kara standing beside a young boy she didn’t recognize. 

Her unexpected silence drew the second brunette’s attention as well, her expression shifting to a cautious glare. Kara placed a hand on the young boy’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before announcing, “Alex, Astra, this is Carter Grant.” 

Carter watched the taller brunette move closer, her sharp cerulean stare impossibly familiar. “You are the son of Catherine Grant?” 

Kara sighed at her aunt’s question, catching the way Alex snickered at the familiarity of the moment. “Aunt Astra, please remember to use contractions. It’ll help you sound less—formal.”  

“And less uptight,” Alex softly added, instantly drawing side-eye from both Kryptonians. 

“And, yes,” Kara continued with a slight pout in her glare toward Alex, “this is Cat’s son, Carter.”  

The hero offered him a comforting smile. “Carter, this is my Aunt Astra.” 

The young boy’s expression lit with excitement as he processed Kara’s introduction. “Your—y-you have an aunt? A real aunt—like _from Krypton_ real?” 

The older Kryptonian moved close enough to extend her hand in the greeting she knew humans preferred. “ _It’s_ a pleasure to meet you, Carter.” 

Kara smiled at her aunt’s exaggerated effort and the gentle way she managed her grip on his hand. As Carter continued to hold his own grip steady, he looked between the two family members. “You look a lot alike. You have the same eyes—kind and protective.” 

The soft inhalation and instant shine in her eyes were all Astra could offer in reply. Kara reached over and took her free hand, squeezing it as tightly as she could. Holding her aunt’s gaze, she replied, “Astra was as much a role model to me when I was a child as my own parents were.” 

It was when Astra smiled that she looked most like Alura, the sight serving as both wound and balm to Kara’s heart. With another quick squeeze, she released her aunt’s hand and guided Carter over to the couch. He flopped down onto a cushion, his expression finally giving way under the shadow darkening his gaze. 

Taking a seat beside him, the hero asked, “So what’s going on, buddy? Your mom’s been gone for a while. What’s made you come see me now? Did something happen at your dad’s?” 

“Last night, my dad’s girlfriend told me I could call her ‘Mama Stacie.’ And then she made a huge deal about trying to tuck me in.” Dark curls swayed with the adamant shake of his head. “I’m too old for that shit.” 

Even as Kara’s eyes widened in surprise, Alex snorted her amused approval. “I like this kid,” she laughed, high-fiving him as she passed by to grab a beer. 

Finally finding her voice, Kara sighed, “Carter, I’m sure she means well—”  

“No,” he rebuffed. “She’s just trying to impress my dad. She’s practically ignored my existence since Mom dropped me off. The only reason she’s trying now is because I overheard one of her friends convince her that being nice to me will get my dad to propose to her.” 

With a dejected slump, he mumbled, “I miss my mom, Kara.” 

The hero slipped her arm across his shoulders to hug him close. “I do, too, Carter.” 

“Don’t you love her anymore?” 

Kara looked down, struggling not to let her emotions overwhelm her.  

“I will never stop loving her.”  

The confession slipped out on a sigh that barely reached Carter—not that he needed to hear. He had seen the answer written in both their eyes whenever they looked at each other. 

“Then why haven’t you even tried to go to her since she left?” 

Looking up once more—and purposefully ignoring the shocked gape of Winn’s mouth over what he was hearing—she gave Carter a sad smile. “It really isn’t that simple this time, buddy. I scared your mom very badly the day I stopped the Myriad signal.” 

Remorse tightened the lines of the hero’s features. “It was a lot for her to bear—and I made it even worse for her by leaving our connection open. I shouldn’t have let her experience any of what I did that day.” 

Her breath trembled at the memory of what she had thought were her final moments. She had known, as she had watched Fort Rozz continue to float beyond her reach, she only had a few minutes before she would lose consciousness. She had already made peace with that in the moment before she had taken flight with the prison ship. She had accepted it was her final mission—to save her home and all those she loved.  

She had refused to surrender to regret, however. Instead, she had continued to fill her connection to Cat with all the love and gratitude she could, even as she felt the pressing weight of silence pulling her beneath its surface.  

Only the next morning when she woke to the shock of emptiness through their bond did Kara understand the depth of her mistake and its damage. By then, it was too late, Cat already gone on a hastily announced “working sabbatical” in which she declared her intention to spend time at every CatCo news bureau worldwide. 

The young boy nodded slowly as he considered Kara’s words. “I heard her that night, crying in her room.” 

He averted his gaze, knowing his words were going to hurt Kara. “I know she has—she has trouble controlling her emotions sometimes, especially her anxiety. But she usually keeps it all hidden from me. That night, it—”  

Voice catching thickly, he wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. He sat in silence as he tried to calm himself, leaning instinctively into the strong circle of Kara’s arm around him. “I’ve never heard her so upset. I-I tried to go to her, but she’d locked her door. I thought—I didn’t know what had happened to you, and Mom’s reaction made me think the worst.”  

Kara leaned her temple against his crown, tears slipping sideways from her eyes into his soft curls. “I’m so sorry, Carter. I’m sorry I scared you both. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for either of you.”  

Alex shifted at the sound of her sister’s pain-filled apology. Setting down her beer, she walked over and sat on the coffee table edge in front of where Kara held Carter closely. She reached out and rested a hand on one of his knees.  

She met Kara’s gaze, her expression conveying all the regret she felt for the pain her own decision had caused Cat and her son. “It was my fault Kara didn’t come back to you or your mom that day, Carter.”  

Images seared unmercifully into her brain flickered to life, forcing remembrance of moments Alex wanted forever purged from thought: leaving Cat in her office, unresponsive and crumpled by sorrow; clinging to Astra as the general flew them both to Desert Containment to retrieve Kara’s pod; flying toward the prone body of her sister, suspended among space dust and debris; watching the flare of Kara’s re-entry and praying to Rao himself that the shock to her body wouldn’t be too much for her to survive, and that Astra would be able to deliver her back to the DEO in time to save her.  

“We nearly didn’t get her back in time. Even after we were sure she was going to make it, she didn’t wake up for another four hours—and then I ordered her to stay in our med bay overnight because—because I needed to be sure she was going to be all right.” 

She remembered curling around her sister’s sleeping form, holding her as tightly as she could, to leave no room for the fears snaking along the edges of her control. She remembered, too, the silhouette of Astra, standing sentry outside Kara’s room the entire night, her smile of relief at Kara’s emergence the next morning strong enough to outshine any signs of exhaustion.  

To his credit, Carter nodded in understanding. “I’m glad you took care of her. My mom needs her very much.” He leaned his head against Kara’s shoulder. “So do I.”  

Eyelids instantly slipped shut over her eyes, pushing tears down Kara’s cheeks, and her stuttering breath ruffled Carter’s hair. After several moments, she shifted to sit taller. Alex instantly recognized the determined set to her sister’s features. “I’m going to fix this, Carter. I promise.” 

She rose from the couch, smiling at the boy as she dried her face. He eyed her cautiously. “Right now?” 

“No time like now, right?” Looking around, she added, “Before I go, though, I need to get you home.” 

“Can’t I stay here? Just for a little while?” 

Alex leaned back with a mischievous grin. “We can keep an eye on the kid and make sure he gets home—maybe after a couple of games,” she added with a wink toward the boy. 

“Why do you keep referring to him as a baby goat?” 

Alex froze in-place, her glare instantly finding Kara’s conversely amused gaze. “And apparently after another lesson on English slang and nuance.” 

Giggling at her sister’s feigned annoyance, she gripped Alex’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Face it: You’re our cultural attaché. It’s your gift and your curse.” 

She stepped away, smiling at Alex’s eye roll, before giving herself enough clearance to change.  

Carter’s eyes grew wide as he watched Kara twirl herself into a Technicolor tornado. When she came to a stop, Supergirl stood before him.  

“So cool.” 

With a knowing smile, she rested her hands along the curve of her hips. “Do you know where your mom is right now?” 

His excitement dwindled slightly. “Not exactly. She headed west when she left National City. I know she spent several weeks working at the CatCo office in Tokyo and then several more with the office in Australia. I didn’t hear from her for a while after that, but when she called me next, she was taking a break in Jakarta. She said something about checking in with CatCo Bangkok and then heading up and around to the new office in Kolkata.” 

The crinkle in Kara’s forehead deepened momentarily before smoothing with a new smile. “Shouldn’t be hard to pinpoint her then, now that I have a more specific location.” 

“Kara.” The exasperated tone of his voice was so familiar, it made the hero’s heart ache. “You’re heading toward one of the most populated areas on Earth. How are you going to find one person among millions?” 

With a soft, knowing smile, she floated up and back toward the open windows. “I will always be able to find your mom, Carter.” 

“Bring her home, please?” 

Unable to squeak out any sound from a suddenly tight throat, the hero nodded before spinning and soaring off into the night sky.  

Miles unreeled behind her as she curved along the horizon, the growing light of day dancing in a gaze already aglow with anticipation (along with a healthy dose of fear, which she adamantly pretended she could outpace if she just flew faster). She followed along the equator until past Jakarta, swinging a sharp right to head north through Malaysia and along the tail of Thailand. However, the sound of Cat’s heartbeat failed to match any location either in Bangkok or heading up the coast toward India.  

The steady, surprisingly slow rhythm instead drew Kara away from the course she had expected, based on what Carter had told her. Swinging northeast from Bangkok, she flew deep into Laos, until she was gliding along with the serpentine sweep of the Mekong River. Passing a small village along the shoreline right before a westerly bend, she pulled closer inland. She drifted up past the cluster of buildings until she was circling a villa tucked noticeably away from the rest of the local structures.  

Silently, she touched down on the rich teak wood parquet of a breezeway that wrapped around the circumference of the villa’s second floor. Sheer curtains alongside what she figured was a bedroom stirred gently, the doors open wide to allow air to flow. With soft footfalls, she followed the breezeway around, toward the pull of a mid-morning sun in a practically cloudless sky. She smiled at the feel of sunlight sinking into her cells—smiled even more at the sight she found awaiting her. 

Positioned on a mat allowing her to face the lazy loop of the Mekong, Cat sat in _Virasana_ pose, legs tucked beneath her and hands resting with open palms pressed atop her thighs. She angled her head back slightly, chin jutting outward and eyes closed as she focused on deep, constant breaths. Kara understood the slower pace of the familiar heartbeat.  

The hero’s own breath grew shallow as she took in the sight of the person she’d missed with such vivacity, every morning since Cat left, she woke with the heat of Cat’s skin still on her fingertips and the crush of her kiss tingling on her lips.  

A desultory sigh broke the measure of the smaller blonde’s breathing. Her head dropped forward, the casual disarray of her hair curtaining her expression from Kara, but the hero heard the telling increase in Cat’s heart rate. When she spoke, Kara couldn’t help her slight jump of surprise.  

“The light here reminds me of the light on my balcony at CatCo—the mid-morning sunlight you loved so much, you would sneak out there when you thought I wouldn’t notice. The first morning I sat here, I thought about how much I wanted to share it with you. I’ve caught myself thinking that about a hundred different things a day since I left National City—and, goddammit, I wish I were exaggerating.”  

Pursing her lips, Cat finally turned to face Kara. As she did, she once again attended the bond between them, the surge of emotions to rush through painting Van Gogh swirls of emerald green and gold around Kara’s irises. The double beat of Cat’s heart settling into place, she rose from her pose and walked the short distance to stand before the hero. Even shoeless and noticeably shorter than Kara, she struck an imposing figure.  

“I left to purge my thoughts of you and instead, all I can think about sometimes is how much I miss you—how much it hurts to be apart from you, from our bond.” 

Throat bobbing with an unsure swallow, the hero leaned forward as if wanting to step into the smaller blonde’s space.  

Feet shuffled backward in juxtaposition as Cat curled her lip away from the slice of a sharp tone. “Even without our bond, I can’t get you out of my head and, quite frankly, it fucking sucks.”  

Kara’s shoulders fell forward, her entire body concaving around the hard punch of Cat’s anger. “I’m sorry.” 

“Not good enough.”  

The hero’s head snapped up, Cat’s words and emotions landing like solid uppercuts. Reaching out only to freeze in a confused hover, she pleaded, “Then tell me, Cat. Tell me what to do to fix this!” 

“Fix what, Kara? Fix _me_? I’m unsalvageable, as I’m sure any number of people would be happy to tell you in excruciating detail.” With a roll of her eyes and a flick of her hand, she sneered, “I’m sure my own mother would more than willingly lead that charge.” 

“Fuck your mother’s opinion.” Kara noted with furtive pride the way Cat’s eyes widened in surprise at her profane outburst. Banking on the attention she’d stunned the smaller blonde into giving, she pressed, “All that has ever mattered to me is you.”  

The disgusted growl confounded her enough, she almost missed bending in sync with the solid shove Cat landed against her chest. “Bullshit!” 

Pushing the hero once again, Cat stalked forward with a plaintive howl. “You left me! You left us!” 

“I didn’t want to leave you or Carter—” 

“You left _us_! Before we could even get started!” 

With each sentence, Kara felt the twist of Cat’s anger, fear, and desolation deep in her gut.  

 _“My mother didn’_ _t send me to Earth to fall in love with a human, have children, live in a house with a white picket fence._ _”_  

The hero crashed her fist against her sternum with enough force, Cat knew it would have shattered human bone beyond repair. “I don’t get the happy ending, Cat! I get the hero’s ending: the thanks of a grateful world, which one day—one day I might not even be here to receive.” 

Tears trailed down her cheeks, but she stood her ground, her gaze unwavering in its intensity. “I did what I knew I had to do that day—what only I could do! I couldn’t let another world die. I couldn’t let you or Carter or Alex—” 

She exhaled against the painful stab in her heart at the thought of what might have happened to all the people she loved. “I can’t bear the weight of that much death ever again.”  

Once more, Cat felt the anguish of Kara’s undiminished mourning crash through her, fill her until she felt close to bursting—and yet utterly bereft of joy, of hope, of the light she had grown so accustomed to sensing from the hero.  

Bowing her head, Kara continued, “I know it’s selfish—” 

She froze at the immediate way Cat clicked her tongue. The smaller blonde shot a ferocious glare as her hands gripped the points of her hips. Kara shifted with uncertainty, confused by the emotions she could feel coming through their connection that most definitely did not match the smaller blonde’s irritated affectation. “That is literally the least selfish thing I have ever heard.” 

Despite the intensity of the moment, Kara couldn’t help the amusement that pulled up at one corner of her mouth.  

Trying once more to move toward Cat, she relaxed at the sight of the smaller blonde crossing her arms but remaining where she stood. She stood quietly within the smaller blonde’s space, focusing on the internal conversation again present between them. 

As she took in the weariness weighing so heavily through their bond, she whispered, “I swear I didn’t want to leave you, Cat.”  

She lifted one hand, fingers curving against the smaller blonde’s cheek. “But you must know, I will always do whatever I have to, to protect you and Carter. I won’t change that. I can’t.”   

Cat’s gaze instantly dropped, her arms slipping down to her sides. Hair once more fanned across her profile as she hung her head. “I’m tired, Kara.”  

At the sound of Cat’s confession, Kara finally wrapped her arms around the slender, shivering body—drew her into an embrace so tight, it felt as if the hero were trying to fuse them together along the seams of souls torn in perfectly aligned ways. As emotion shook them both, Kara pressed her mouth against the curve of Cat’s ear.  

“Let me be your strength.”  

She noted the bite of Cat’s nails suddenly against her back as the smaller blonde wrapped her arms under her cape, felt the wash of Cat’s tears as they slipped down against the strong line of her neck. Her hands moved in soothing patterns along Cat’s back.  

 _“_ _:_ _zhaodh_ _w_ _rrip_ _eh, ,_ _cathryn_ _,._ _tulemodh_ _w_ _rrip_ _eh_ _vahdhah_ _tulemodh_ _w_ _rrip_ _fim_ _._ _”_  

Even though she knew the smaller blonde couldn’t understand the words she had spoken, she felt Cat relax against her, melting into her hold. Nervously, she pressed a kiss, first against Cat’s temple and then lower, trailing a line downward along her cheek and jaw. At her lips, however, the hero paused, close enough to feel the warm lick of Cat’s breath across her skin. 

Realizing Kara was giving her control, Cat nodded as she curled her fingers along the curve of Kara’s obliques, gripping tightly enough to encourage the hero flush against her. And then Kara’s mouth found hers, followed surprisingly quickly by a curious, insistent tongue parting her lips and skimming past her teeth.  

Cat moaned contentedly in reply to Kara’s thorough exploration of her mouth. Her hands slowly moved along the hero’s sides, her fingertips memorizing the uneven weave of the sinfully fitted suit beneath them. Pushing her touch down further, she smoothed down the fabric of Kara’s skirt before ruffling it once more as she scratched her nails up against the firm flesh of the hero’s thighs. 

Kara breathed a surprised grunt into Cat’s mouth as she flexed her hands against her waist. “Feels so good,” she whispered.  

Her lips and tongue trailed heat along Cat’s jaw, down the sculpted line of her neck, tracing the sharp rise of her collarbones. When she reversed course and just as slowly traced her way back up, she let her teeth scrape against her earlobe before flicking her tongue along the shell of her ear. “Let me take care of you, Cat. Let me make you feel just as good.”  

The smaller blonde eased back enough to make eye contact, to see the joy and truth and desire shining in Kara’s eyes—to feel all those things and more pouring through their bond. Without any further thought, she nodded and took one of Kara’s hands in her own. Smiling in a surprisingly demure way, she led the hero back down the villa’s breezeway, to the curtained-off room she had assumed correctly was Cat’s bedroom.  

Once inside, Cat turned and softly kissed Kara’s lips as she traced her hands along where the hero’s cape disappeared beneath her uniform. “Show me how to take this off.” She enjoyed another decadent kiss before adding, “All of it.” 

Kara breathed deeply at Cat’s request, guiding her with noticeably nervous hands to all the places the smaller blonde needed to unlatch, unzip, or otherwise unfasten to release her from her uniform. By the time they finished, Kara was certain she _always_ wanted Cat to help her out of her Super suit every time from then on. She blushed at the thought, blushed even more at the way Cat’s gaze devoured the sight of the Girl of Steel in nothing more than her underwear.  

The smaller blonde showed both restraint and mercy after only a few moments of open staring before she once more took Kara’s hand. Leading her to the bed, she began to press against Kara’s shoulders, her intent clear. Instead, Kara shook her head as she reached out and began unbuttoning the top the smaller blonde wore. Next, she slid off her pants, careful to let her balance herself as she stepped out of them completely.  

Once more feeling her nerves show themselves in the shiver of her hands, Kara flexed her fingers before removing the final pieces of clothing Cat wore. The body before her was exquisite in ways the hero had never imagined. Her chest tightened with the rush of emotions she felt churning furiously within her before streaming through their connection. She watched as Cat’s eyes glistened and her lips parted in wonder in response to all the hero happily shared once more. “I’ve missed feeling you so much.”  

With a daring smirk and a cocky hitch of her brow, Cat lifted Kara’s hands, pressing them over her breasts in response to her sentiment. Kara’s reaction was instant, leaving Cat wondering three things when she found herself flat beneath the hero: how Kara had removed the rest of her own clothes and moved them both onto the bed so quickly, how Cat had ended up being the bottom to an extremely enthusiastic Super top, and why just the thought of that last question made her squirm with anticipation.  

Sensing Cat’s puzzlement and expectancy, Kara stretched the warm full length of her body over the smaller blonde, adding a slow downward grind of her hips for good measure. Green gazes met and the strong double thump of Cat’s heartbeat set the tempo for Kara’s next moves.  

Any concern about shyness or uncertainty dissolved beneath the wash of sensations shared, guiding Kara’s every move. She followed the path set for her by what she was hearing—not just Cat’s verbal cues (which were guttural and gorgeous) but also to her emotional responses.  

Cat had never experienced anyone so adept at learning her needs so quickly. She was used to uncertainty or, worse, apathy when it came to tending to her desires. In time, she’d learned the best way to guarantee her own satisfaction was to take command and lead her lovers in how to properly please her.  

With Kara, she surprised even herself at how quickly she surrendered to the hero’s touch. She writhed blissfully, the longing within her stoked to capacity at the way Kara’s hands skimmed across her body and her fingers curled and flexed and teased in all the best ways, the way her mouth breathed desire into her pores and her tongue cut trails of longing into her skin. 

It was Kara’s emotions, though, swirling and spreading through them both, that woke within Cat the certainty that this— _this_ was always the craving within her unsatisfied, the need never before reciprocated. But finally, there was Kara, filling her with light and warmth and love—the willing response to the call within her so long left unanswered. 

As Kara focused solely on the rhythms of Cat’s own emotions, she catalogued each symphonic movement of the smaller blonde’s  pleasure: the twitches of her abdomen, the tremble of her thighs, the curl of her toes, the sway of her breasts, the pulse of her beneath Kara’s tongue. 

All the movements syncopated to the hero’s direction—the conductor orchestrating the perfect adagio of ecstasy—until finally the body beneath her arched at the crescendo, the music of her release filling the mid-morning air.  

Only when she felt the soft flow of total satiation slip through their bond did Kara finally ease in her attentions. With a grin Cat was certain edged right up to smug, Kara shifted so she was lying beside the smaller blonde. Rolling so she could feel the curl of Kara’s body behind her, she tugged the hero’s arms around her waist.  

As she struggled vainly against the exhaustion Kara had caused through her whole body, she mumbled in a tone that amused Kara with its harmless bite, “Don’t you dare ever call me little spoon, Supergirl.” 

The last thing she remembered were the gentle kisses Kara placed along her neck in response, the soft puffs of her laughter tickling her ear. Soon after, Kara succumbed to her own exhaustion, her sleep deservedly deep and peaceful. 

She awoke a few hours later to sunlight streaming through the curtains’ diaphanous filter and a strange, soft, steady thump against the mattress. 

She stretched and blinked against the brightness several times. When her eyes acclimated, she glanced up to the sight of Cat watching her curiously, head propped up on one hand while her other tapped her mobile against the mattress. “Is-is everything all right?” 

“Of course, darling.” She stilled the tapping, raising the phone to Kara’s eye level and waggling it in the air. “I was simply waiting to ask you a question.” 

Kara pressed her lips together as she felt her forehead wrinkle in concern. “Ask what?” 

Cat leaned across the slight span between them. They kissed slowly and deeply, Cat curling her tongue into the hero’s mouth with unashamed fervor. When she drew back, she smirked at the rebellious whine she heard within Kara’s throat. 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise.” The words dusted across the curve of Kara’s lips. At the responding nod, Cat once more raised her phone. Unlocking it, she turned the screen toward the hero. “I simply would like to know how my son ended up hanging out with this motley crew.” 

The hero’s eyelids fluttered uncertainly as she forced her brain to surface from the delirium of a bonus Cat Grant make-out session. However, the sight of the photo instantly focused her attention. Her nervous laughter soon drained away into a terrified grimace the smaller blonde loathed seeing. 

Placing a hand against Kara’s chest, she shook her head. “I’m curious, Kara—not angry. Carter clearly needed you for some reason, which I suspect had quite a bit to do with your arrival?” 

When Kara smiled sheepishly, Cat was simply relieved to see the hero relax. Tempering her reactions slightly, the hero replied, “He misses you. And he wanted to know why I hadn’t come looking for you yet.” 

“What did you tell him?” 

“That I didn’t deserve to come looking for you because of how badly I hurt you. That you deserved whatever time away from me you needed, to do whatever you needed regarding our bond.” 

“And why did you change your mind?” 

Kara began instantly to respond, but just as quickly stopped, teeth clacking audibly as she shut her mouth. Her brow furrowed once more at the realization. “Astra.”  

Cat’s eyes widened at the unexpected confession. “Good to know there’s more to her than Kryptonian stoicism and Sweeney Todd’s hair style.” 

The hero snorted at Cat’s teasing, earning a kiss to the tip of her nose. With a dip of her head and a shy smile, she continued, “My aunt has the second chance she never thought she would have—and I have the second chance with her I thought would only ever live in my dreams.” 

Cat twirled a lock of Kara’s hair around her fingers, her expression soft as she took in the hero’s earnest gaze. “We’ve gone through far more than second chances by this point, darling.” 

“And we’ll go through far more, I’m sure. I don’t care.”  

She took Cat’s phone to study the photo more. Carter sat on Kara’s couch, settled snugly between Alex and Astra. Her sister had an arm draped around Carter’s shoulders as she said something that clearly confused Astra. Lucy and Vasquez flanked her sister and her aunt, both of them laughing while Winn reached over the couch back to high-five the boy. Kara absently realized James must have snapped the adorably unplanned shot.   

Carter’s exuberance radiated from him even in photo form, and Kara found herself already completely in love with all of what she saw. 

“I want this, you know.” 

“The photo?” 

Lips twitched teasingly around the words and Kara felt the playful warmth through their bond. 

She turned the screen toward Cat. “Carter. You. At game nights, at impromptu dinners, at holidays.” 

Sitting up, she took Cat’s hands and guided her until she was straddling the hero’s thighs. “I want this,” she repeated. She pressed one of her palms over Cat’s heart. Her eyes swirled the colors of a tempestuous sea. “I want _us_. I want to love and care for Carter as my own.” 

Reaching up, carefully cupping Cat’s face within the strong expanse of her free hand, she finished, “I want you, _,_ _cathryn_ _,,_ in every possible way.”  

Her smile grew large, tears slipping from her eyes. “Let’s not waste any more time.” 

Silence filled the air, but Kara remained patient, absorbing every raw emotion her words were conjuring within the smaller blonde. Even as Cat’s own tears began to slip down her cheeks, she teased, “You’re asking me to marry you and I don’t even know your real name.” 

“ _,_ _kahrah_ _,_ _zor,ehl_ _,._ ”  

At the sound of Cat repeating the name in Kara’s true accent, she smiled brightly. “I have dreamt of this moment so many times _._ For all my life, you have been my _khahshchav_ —the one breath I have always needed to fill me with life, to calm my mind, to sustain my soul. Now, I ask you, Catherine Jane Grant, to be the only breath I will always need above all others. Please grant me the honor of loving you and Carter as my own _zrhythrev_ —my House. My family.” 

Her answer came first in the press of soft, warm lips against her own, trembling with all the emotions no longer able to fit through their bond. Linking their hands together and holding them against her chest, Kara floated them over until they lay side-by-side, bodies instantly drawing closer, legs tangling on instinct.  

Cat continued her eager exploration of Kara’s mouth for several languorous moments before finally parting enough to whisper the only word she could ever give to the hero’s request. The rapturous response she felt through their connection made her heart feel close to bursting with its frenzied rhythm.  

Leaning her forehead against the hero’s, she sighed into the space between them. “I love you, Kara. I’m sorry I sometimes lost sight of that. I promise, I will never let either of us lose sight of it again.” 

“We both made mistakes. The best thing we can do is learn their lessons well so we never repeat them.” Her expression brightened under her blinding smile. “But please feel free to repeat you love me as often as you’d like.” 

Eyebrow ascending in a manner that shook the hero clear down to her toes, Cat nudged Kara until she was supine beneath her and bared her teeth in feral delight. Folding her fingers around the strong arcs of Kara’s shoulders, she dug in her grip, hips grinding down in lazy undulations. 

“I’ve got something else I’d like to repeat often, darling.” 

As she slid slowly lower toward where her mouth had already begun watering to taste, she caught the sound of Kara’s fingers plunging through the mattress and laughed.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took this long to get a new chapter for this story! I actually ended up making a major plot change, which meant lots of rewriting, lots of new writing, and a reduction in the number of chapters left. We've now got one more chapter rather than two. I was a little sad to see a couple of things go (although I've saved them for future reference, LOL), but holistically, I think the change I made makes this a much stronger chapter. Also, it gave me some incredibly fun moments to write for Alex, Astra, Kara, and Carter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!


	14. Chapter 14

To the outside world, the whirlwind romance of Cat Grant and her former assistant was a fractured fairy tale even the media mogul’s most adoring fans slated for quick dissolution and quicker disappointment. After all, what most people saw when they looked at Kara Danvers was an unexpected, mousy dalliance the Queen of All Media would surely soon tire of before returning to diversions more properly suited to her status.

They would never see the hero within Kara. Nor would they ever know the true extent of the journeys taken or the battles fought to bring her finally and forever into Cat’s life. They would never understand the connection shared, no matter the name, between souls imperfectly separated—perfectly reformed.

Not that Cat could be bothered to care about what other people thought. In fact, she was certain she had lost the ability to do all else in that moment beyond take in the sight moving toward her with ethereal grace. As she stood with Carter beneath the wedding _chuppah_ they had built using her father’s _tallit_ , she realized almost too late that she had actually forgotten to breathe—a truth Alex would be all too eager to tease her about later. In the moment, however, the brunette simply nudged her shoulder, giving her an understanding smile when she finally regained her composure. 

Taking in a noticeably audible gulp of air, she smirked at Alex’s teasing. She noted, too, the way the brunette’s entire countenance glowed with a happiness Cat suspected she rarely shared with those outside her trusted circle. That she would count Cat in that circle now was yet another of the treasures Kara had brought to Carter’s and her lives. 

The thought drew her full attention back toward the woman who now stood before her, flanked by Eliza and Astra. Divested of her glasses, Kara observed her with guileless awe, her outer calm betrayed by the dizzying dervish of emotions the smaller blonde could feel through their connection. Her honeyed tresses, free of any ponytail, tumbled in layers and waves across her shoulders—a beautiful crown to match the hero’s unmistakable regal bearing.

Cat’s gaze then traveled along the length of Kara’s dress: a traditional Kryptonian holy robe, an almost iridescent white trimmed in gold and cinched at the waist by a gold belt similar to the one from her uniform. The crest of the House of El embossed the center of the robe’s roll collar, which draped down from her shoulders and over her chest and upper arms. 

Unconsciously, the smaller blonde reached up, fingers tracing the CatCo “C” embossed into the fabric of her own robe—the crest of the House of Grant, as decided by Kara and confirmed by Carter. 

Cat had almost rolled her eyes at the hero’s declaration until she’d felt the melancholy-tinged joy through their bond at being able to share with Cat this small part of Krypton on this day.

They had already taken care of the perfunctory part of the moment. Two days prior, they had held a small ceremony—a “performance piece,” as Cat had called it—to give the paparazzi something to satiate their vulturine cravings. They’d signed their marriage license and allowed a justice of the peace to perform a quick ceremony that would satisfy the State of California’s legal requirements. 

After the spectacular failure of Cat’s previous marriage, the smaller blonde would have been content with leaving the wedding part at that and heading off to begin the eagerly anticipated honeymoon stage of their nuptials. However, she had tamped down her own desires (far more easily than she would ever confess to anyone) in lieu of letting Kara have her say in how their true ceremony should look. 

The hero had responded to Cat’s honest curiosity with a voice soft and heavy with emotion. She had lain draped along Cat’s side, as she had many times since Cat’s return to National City, their legs tangled and her fingers idly exploring all the places on the smaller blonde’s body she swore the hero had already memorized a thousand times with unerring clarity. In that moment, however, Cat had recognized it was just movement to keep her focused on something other than the ache of reopening the wounds of such deep loss.

Whenever Kara spoke of Krypton in any way, Cat always made certain to open their bond as completely as possible. Her invitation was clear: Whatever emotions Kara needed to express, Cat wanted to share them; whatever Kara needed in return, Cat wanted to provide it. 

So it was when Kara had talked of the few holy ceremonies they had continued to teach the young on Krypton, even as they had mostly abandoned their faith in Rao. She had described the robes, the prayers, the meditations and the rituals she had memorized—all of it with such precision that Cat had quickly realized she could conjure her own memories of the emotions Kara had experienced, just from what the hero was describing to her. 

The first time Cat had done this, Kara couldn’t hold back the rush to pour out of her, not just through their bond but also in a flood of heart-shattering sobs. Startled at first by the fierce onslaught, the smaller blonde had held her through the worst of her crying, doing her best to soothe with soft words and emotions to counter the hero’s illimitable grief.

In the ensuing quiet, broken only by sniffles and the occasional hiccup, Kara had finally leaned back to meet Cat’s wondering gaze. Her voice etched the air between them with sorrow-roughened edges. “Krypton— _my_ Krypton lives only in us.” 

She pressed her hand over Cat’s heart, her fingers curling almost painfully into the warm flesh beneath. “And only we live with the memory of its death.”

As Cat fully processed Kara’s words, she felt the familiar prickle of panic through her, still as fresh and terrifying as it had been the very first time she’d felt it. 

Kara’s hands slipped upward and through her hair, holding her head so she met the hero’s gaze. “You were my salvation all those years, _,_ _cathryn_ _,_. But you don’t ever have to bear any burden alone again.”

She pressed tender kisses against the tremble of Cat’s mouth. At the feeling of Cat’s anguish deepening, she leaned back, hands still softly sifting through golden locks. “Talk to me, _zhor_ _te_.”

“My father—” 

The words clung to her tongue, silencing her for several moments. Throughout it all, Kara had watched her thoughtfully, her turquoise gaze focused intently on the woman she held in her arms.

“I lost him right before I lost you.” She breathed out, a wounded sound that Kara felt sharply. “When you disappeared, I felt like I had lost everything.” She blushed in awareness. “I had no way of knowing you actually _had_ lost everything.”

“Not everything.”

At the feel of Kara tugging insistently in her hair, she shifted her gaze upward. “I still had you.” Cat felt the smile on Kara’s lips as she kissed her slowly, fully. “I’ve always had you.” 

Settling back into Cat’s bed, they had snuggled deeply into each other’s embraces and the silence of the room. As Cat had begun to drift into slumber, she felt Kara’s fingertips slipping along the curve of her back. The hero’s voice whispered warmly against the shell of her ear. “Make him part of our ceremony, _,_ _cathryn_ _,_. Remember him. Celebrate him.”

Memory blurred her vision once more as Cat looked up toward the _chuppah_ and smiled, grateful for Kara’s encouragement. She then watched with unabashed joy as Kara moved close enough that she could feel the Kryptonian’s body heat radiating within the space between them.

The hero cast her gaze over Cat, a shy smile brightening her features at the sight of the smaller blonde adorned in Kryptonian finery. With a quietly shared glance and a burst of almost overwhelming elation through their bond, she turned her attention toward Eliza.

Her voice quavered slightly as she declared, “I arrived to this planet terrified, alone, and so broken. I-I had nearly lost all my hope.”  

Eliza instantly caught the tells of Kara’s emotional distress the way she had learned to do since welcoming the Kryptonian girl into her life. She reached out, gripping one of Kara’s hands with all her strength. 

Blushing at the knowledge that Eliza could feel the way she shook, Kara blew out a nervous laugh and met her foster mother’s quiet observation. “You never hesitate or hold back with me—not with support, not with guidance, and never with love. You took me in. You gave me a home. You gave me a place in your family and your heart. I came to you with nothing, and you have given me everything you could.”

Her cheeks darkened with the flush of emotions she could see reflected back in her foster mother’s gaze. “Eliza, I ask of you, as First of the House of Danvers, to consecrate my bond with Cat with the traditional Kryptonian House blessing.”

The hero’s breath hitched and tripped over the words, her eyes glazing with emotion. 

Eliza offered the hero a calming smile. “One of my greatest joys in this life is to call you my daughter, Kara. Though blood does not bind us, love surely does.”

She leaned forward, kissing Kara’s forehead. “I’m honored to give this blessing.” 

She then reached out and took one of Cat’s hands, placing it within Kara’s grip. Wrapping her own hands around theirs, she spoke the English translation of the House blessing: “May your Houses become one in trust, wisdom, and strength, and may the love you share for each other make your bond unbreakable.”

Raising one hand, she wiped away the tears spilling from Kara’s eyes before resting her palm against the warmth of her cheek. “May you always find home in each other.” 

When she turned to face Cat once more, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly before her expression relaxed into a tempered smile. The smaller blonde pursed her lips at the sight, immediately feeling Kara’s emotions turn comforting and reassuring. 

Truthfully, Cat wasn’t upset by Eliza’s initial (and ultimately short-lived) disapproval of Kara’s desire to marry the Queen of All Media. She understood well the maternal misgivings—knew how, even coming from the daughter she’d adopted from the stars, Eliza must have had one hell of a time accepting Kara’s explanation of her connection with Cat. Still, with whatever reservations she might continue to wrestle for some time, she was _there_. 

Unconsciously, Cat’s gaze flitted over the small gathering, already knowing who she would see—and who she would not. 

Once more, Kara’s emotions wrapped around her, strong and sure enough to push back whatever inkling of sadness the smaller blonde might have felt in that moment. 

With a deep breath, she refocused on Eliza, relaxing into the hero’s comforting emotional embrace. Her lips tipped upward into a slightly sideways smile that made Eliza huff in amusement. Tightening her hold on Cat and Kara’s hands, she softly added, “Welcome to the family, Cat.” 

Cat nodded, afraid to trust the steadiness of her voice in the moment. Eliza dropped her hold and moved back, pausing long enough to hug Carter before taking her place beside Alex. 

The hero stepped without hesitation into the now-empty spot, pulling Cat into her arms as she did. Cat knew it wasn’t a part of the ceremony—knew just as well that it was precisely what they both needed in the moment. Her own arms threading around Kara’s waist, she leaned into the hug with a contented hum. 

After several beats of comfortable silence, the sound of someone clearing their throat roused them from their singular attentions. Astra smiled knowingly as the women turned to face her. Like Kara, she wore Kryptonian ceremonial robes—hers an exquisite shade of dark purple, offset by a silver belt and embossed with what Cat had learned was the sigil of the House of Ze. 

Cerulean eyes shimmering brightly, she stated, “Kara has requested time for you both to offer each other prepared words.”

Cat fought back the amused grin at Astra’s somewhat stilted declaration, instead stepping out of Kara’s arms and focusing her thoughts on what she had prepared to say. She looked up for several beats, once more studying the intricate weave of the fabric hanging above them. 

With an airy gesture upward, she finally redirected her gaze to meet Kara’s. “This was my father’s _tallit_ —the prayer shawl his mother gave him when he was a little boy. I only ever saw him wear it a few times, but I knew he always cherished it as a reminder of his mother. I wanted him to be a part of this day because—because of the part he played in making today possible.”

She smiled at how Kara visibly piqued at her surprising confession. “My father was the dreamer in my life.”

At the sound of Cat’s voice breaking, Kara reached out and entwined the fingers of both their hands. She felt the grateful pressure of the smaller blonde’s grip instantly. 

Clearing her throat, she continued, “He taught me fables and fairy tales, and always encouraged me to be open to the many possibilities life had in store for me. He also taught me about the endurance of hope and the beauty of _bashert_ —that what is meant to be will always find a way.” 

She looked up into the mirror image of her own eyes and instinctively raised Kara’s hand against the double beat of her heart. “He was the first person in my life I told about you.” 

Her heart rate spiked at the joyous response slipping through their bond. “He was the first person to believe me and to encourage me to believe in us. He told me this could be the greatest love of my life, and I should never close myself off to that kind of hope.”

Tears spilled and sparkled down porcelain cheeks as she whispered, “I know with all of my father’s certitude that you are my _bashert_ , Kara, and I want nothing more than the chance to prove him correct for the rest of my life.” 

At the feeling of Carter moving beside her, she reached out and accepted from him the ring they had both designed for Kara: a silver tungsten band set with a full inlay of Alexandrite stones, cut to accentuate the way the gems shifted in the light from blue to green. 

With a suddenly unwavering voice, she slipped the band onto Kara’s finger and declared, _“Ani_ _l’dodi_ _v’dodi_ _li._ I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” 

Kara stared down at the ring circling her finger, watching the light filter through the gems until her vision blurred beyond focus. When she finally spoke, her words slipped quietly and solemnly from her lips. 

“I sometimes still wake up at night terrified of the darkness and silence around me. For several moments, I’ll sometimes even think I’m still in _vrrosh_ _:_ _dokhahsh_ —that this life is the dream I’ve conjured to protect myself from the emptiness that has trapped me.”

She sniffled, her cheeks flushing once more with the strength of emotions Cat could feel swelling within her. “All I need to do, though,” she continued, “is wait—for you.” 

Bodies once more moving into each other’s orbits, Kara rested her hands along the sharp lines of Cat’s hips, relished the curl and press of Cat’s hands up and around her shoulder blades. She gazed with fathomless devotion into the smaller blonde’s eyes. 

“You have always found me, _,_ _cathryn_ _,._ Across space, across time, through loss and fear—through it all, you have protected and comforted me. I know I stand here before you because of the resolve of your heart and the tenacity of your will.”

Eyelids fluttering to fight back tears for just a moment longer, she took from Alex Cat’s ring. She twisted it from side to side, watching light spark within the platinum infinity band’s sunstone setting, cut from the crystal that had run her pod’s computer systems during her long journey to Earth.

With great focus on keeping her hand from trembling too much (or from crushing the ring in her attempts to stop the shaking), she slipped the ring onto Cat’s finger and softly promised, _“_ _urkyu_ _khahshchav_ _khap_ _w_ _rrip_ _eh_ _rruhsh_ _urkyodh_ _ewuhshehd_ _krep_ _._ I will share with you one breath until we share our last.”

Cat physically ached from the purity of Kara’s promise—from the terrifying, beautiful truth of her devotion, laid bare and unashamed for all to witness. Once more, she drew Kara’s hands against the solid, steady rhythm of their joined heart beat within her chest. Words she had grown to fear ever saying to anyone other than Carter now flowed easily. “I love you with everything I am, Kara.”

The power of those words flared brightly in the hero’s eyes. _“_ _:_ _zhaodh_ _w_ _rr_ _i_ _p_ _eh_ _,_ _cathryn_ _,.”_

Smiling at the sight of her niece unable to resist pulling Cat once more into her embrace, Astra placed her hands on each of their shoulders. When she was certain she had their attention, even if briefly, she pronounced, “Rao’s blessing burns within you. Rao’s love shines upon you. May the light of Rao warm you and guide you until it leads you once more into his eternal embrace.” 

Dropping her hands to her sides, she bowed her head reverently and whispered, “Rao’s will be done.”

Kara bowed her head in response, softly repeating, “Rao’s will be done.”

After a moment of silence, a soft huff from behind Astra was quickly followed by Alex placing her hands along the general’s hips and peering over her shoulder at her sister and Cat. With a rakish curl of her lips and a mischievous wink, she declared in an obvious stage-whisper, “Now, kiss so we can kick this party off right!”

Amusement rippled through the small crowd even as Eliza swatted her older daughter’s shoulder with playful reproach. Cat listened to the beautiful sounds surrounding them and watched as Alex pulled Carter into a playful bear hug, his delighted laughs joining with the warmth of Kara’s love pouring through their bond. 

With her own devilish smile, she tucked her fingers beneath the edge of Kara’s collar and tugged, her hero immediately responding. The moment their lips finally met, to a resounding cheer from their guests, Cat laughed into the kiss, knowing it was the beginning of the journey always meant to be theirs.

Destiny, one breath at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Finally, LOL.
> 
> So sorry it took me this long to post this final chapter. I hope it was worth the wait. I also hope you enjoyed this Christmas in July story that took us almost up to actual Christmas :-D


End file.
